The Tracker (the Dregs #1) 1o4vd

THE TRACKER

The Dregs Book 1 Leslie Georgeson Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2018 by Leslie Georgeson

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author.

* * * This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Other Titles by Leslie Georgeson About Leslie Georgeson Connect with Leslie Georgeson

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THE TRACKER I’m a trained killer. An expert tracker. I’ve done despicable things. My soul is damaged. My body impaired. That’s what happens when you are a soldier for The Company. I was discharged a year ago. Now I am a dreg. Worthless. With a bounty on my head. I’ve become a creature of the night, hiding in an underground maze during the day. Because I’m not ready to die yet. She comes to me one night, needing my help to find her sister. The moment I see her, I want her. Her goodness calls to me, makes me yearn for the impossible. She brings life back to the deadness inside me. I’m no good for her. I will do nothing but corrupt her. But I’m a callous bastard. I can’t resist her. I try not to care for her, but somehow she slips under my skin. She makes me weak. And there is only one thing in this world I am afraid of. Weakness. I’ll never be good enough for her, so I have to finish this job and send her on her way. Before she destroys me.

PROLOGUE

The boy came awake gradually, his senses picking up the strangeness around him. Cold. He shivered. Dark. He blinked. He was in a cell of some kind. On a bed. A bottom bunk. A light out in the corridor enabled him to see the wall of bars locking him in. Water dripped from somewhere close by. A leaky faucet? He sat up slowly and took stock of his surroundings. He spied a small sink attached to the concrete wall next to a toilet across the small cell. Prison. He was in some kind of prison. His heart raced. How had he gotten here? What had he done? Someone moaned from a cell down the hall. Another person was crying pitifully from somewhere in the distance. A chill crept down the boy’s spine. The bunkbed shifted above him. He tensed. Who was up there? What would that person do to him? He’d seen movies and heard all the horror stories about what happened to people in prison. He swallowed hard. Please don’t let that happen to me. The bed wiggled again as someone leapt off the top and landed on the floor in front of the boy. He reared back as a big, redheaded kid stared down at him. A teenager. Sixteen? Seventeen? He was tall and broad. Mean-looking. Intimidating. The redheaded kid’s lips stretched into a smile, a startling contrast to his frightening appearance. “Hey.” Taken aback, the boy stared. A friendly giant? He drew in a deep breath, puffed it back out. “Hey.” “My name’s Gordon.” The bigger kid held out his hand. The boy hesitated, then shook Gordon’s hand. “I’m…” He drew a blank. Panic slammed into him. Who am I? His mind was frozen, nothing but blankness inside. Who was he? Why couldn’t he his own name?

Then it came to him, like a flash of light in the dark. “Liam.” He sighed in relief. “My name’s Liam.” He glanced around the cell again. “Where are we? Why am I here? My head’s a little fuzzy.” Gordon nodded. “It’s the drugs they gave you. You’ll get used to it eventually. Before long, you won’t even your own name. They’ll give you a new one, depending on your skills. That is, if you survive long enough to learn some skills.” Liam’s heart pounded harder. That didn’t make sense. The last thing he ed was…he searched hard for a memory of some kind, but only came up blank. He couldn’t anything except his name, and that had barely come to him. He clung to that memory, not wanting to forget his name. Liam. My name’s Liam. Don’t forget it. Don’t forget. My name is Liam. Liam. I’m Liam. Liam who? No last name came forward. No middle name. Just Liam. It would have to be good enough. Liam. How old am I? He glanced down at himself. Faded jeans. Black hoodie. Converse sneakers. Wiry build. Not as old as Gordon. He stared blankly at the big, redheaded kid. How old am I? Twelve. He glanced back down at himself.

Yeah. I’m twelve. I think. Panic gripped him again. He couldn’t be sure. What was going on? Why couldn’t he anything? Gordon’s words finally sank home: It’s the drugs they gave you. Liam’s heart rate kicked up even more, galloping in place like a tethered thoroughbred. Drugs? Who were they? What had they done to him? He shouldn’t be here. He should be home with…who? His family? Did he even have a family? His head hurt, a fierce pounding that made him want to scream in agony. He clutched his head in his hands and groaned softly. “Why am I here? Why? I don’t understand.” Gordon shrugged. “Why are any of us here? Because we’re expendable. I just hope you last longer than my last roommate did.” Liam snapped his head up, the headache screeching to a sudden halt. “What happened to your last roommate?” Gordon eyed him with a seriousness that made Liam flinch. “He didn’t survive the first round of tests.” Tests? What tests? What was this guy talking about? “This is freaking me out.” Liam jumped up from the bed. He paced across the cell to the bars. Staring out into the corridor, he shouted, “Help! Let me out of here! There’s been a mistake!” A big hand gripped his shoulder. “Won’t do you any good, Liam. You can scream and cry until you’re hoarse. They won’t free you. You’re not a human being anymore. You’re a test subject. A lab rat.” Liam spun his head around, his gaze locking on Gordon’s. “What do you mean? Who are they?” Gordon sighed. “They are The Company. They own us now. From this point forward, you just need to concentrate on staying alive, because you can’t run,

and you can’t hide. You’ll never escape.” He gave Liam a sympathetic pat on the back and turned away. “Welcome to hell, roomie.”

CHAPTER ONE

Fifteen years later Jessica “In there!” The child pointed into a dark cavernous hole that ran underneath the haunted mansion in the forest. No door marked the entrance. I wouldn’t have even seen it if the kid hadn’t pointed me in the right direction. I had followed the boy for nearly an hour through the dark Loblolly pine forest to this place, holding my tiny flashlight in front of me like a sword. The centuries’ old abandoned estate valiantly fought to remain standing, the halfcrumbling structure sitting on acres and acres of woodland, far from civilization. I could imagine that in its prime, it had been majestic. Now it was just a skeleton of what it had once been. I cautiously glanced into the fathomless pit. Where did it lead? Cool air stirred around me, tickling my face, sending a chill down my spine. A warning? Go away, stupid girl. Nothing but evil resides down here. I jerked back, my heart pounding. “Are you sure?” I turned back to the boy who’d led me here, but he’d vanished into the forest, leaving me alone in this eerie place. I shivered, unable to hold back my fear. The wind blew through the trees around me, filling my nostrils with the distinctive rosemary scent of the Loblolly pines. A tree trunk creaked in the wind. A pack of coyotes howled somewhere off in the distance, a series of staccato yips, yaps and barks. Then…silence. I shined the flashlight around the woods. The old mansion sat along the edge of the Oconee National Forest, on the outskirts of the small town of Eatonton, Georgia. My search for The Tracker had brought me to this place in the woods, a place I hadn’t even known existed until a few hours ago. The sudden silence around me might give the illusion that I was alone out here. But I knew better. All sorts of things lurked in the darkness, in the shadows.

Watching. Waiting to pounce. I shivered again and wrapped my arms around myself. It wasn’t cold outside— night temperatures in mid-summer Georgia rarely dropped below 65 degrees— but fear could make a person freeze in seconds. I can do this. This place—the darkness under the old mansion—was supposedly where the dregs lived. I’d been told that very few people knew of this place, and those who did know didn’t share the information with others. Because if they told, they died. This was a secret place. A dangerous place. The boy who’d shown me had made me swear not to tell a living soul. He’d warned me that if I told anyone, not only would I die, but he would as well. Now he was gone, somewhere into the dark forest, while my fate remained to be seen. I glanced back into the dark hole. It was rumored that the dregs were once powerful warriors who had been cast aside when injuries prevented them from continuing their duties. They now resided here in the forest, apparently beneath the old mansion. People said the dregs had been snatched off the streets as young boys and trained to become ruthless mercenaries for some secret organization— perhaps even the government. The dregs were now creatures of the night— wounded warriors with tortured souls. It was rumored that if you saw a dreg, it would be the last thing you ever saw. Any woman with an ounce of intelligence in her brain wouldn’t dare venture near this place. But I was desperate. I wanted to believe that everything I’d heard about the dregs was just rumors. But no one really knew the truth about them. I forcefully pushed back the shiver of fear that snaked down my spine. You’re doing this for Eliza. Be brave. You came all this way. You can’t chicken out now. I took a deep breath, tried to relax.

You’re going to get her back. I glanced back into the darkness beneath the old building. It had to be close to eleven o’clock now. Past bedtime for most people. Were the dregs awake down there? Somewhere in that black tunnel was the best tracker money could buy. Known only as The Tracker, he was fabled to be one of the dregs, a former soldier who’d sustained an injury so severe that he’d been forced into early retirement. The Tracker could reportedly track down anything that moved. Human or beast. If anyone could find Eliza, it would be him. But first I had to find him. Then I had to convince him to help me find my sister. The problem was, I didn’t have any money. I didn’t have anything to offer The Tracker for his services. I’d brought a backpack full of folded papers that looked and sounded like money until you opened it and discovered it was nothing but old newspaper. Could I convince him it was real money just long enough to get him to agree to help me find Eliza? It was a foolish idea, but I was desperate, and desperate times called for desperate measures. Once Eliza was safe, I’d worry about how to repay The Tracker. He would likely turn me down flat. Or kill me. If he was a beast like some people said, then chances were I wouldn’t come out of that tunnel alive. What if he doesn’t fall for it? What if he wants money up front? I swallowed hard. Then I was screwed. Or I’d have to offer him something else for his services. I tried not to think about what he might expect in lieu of money. A personal slave? Sex? I cringed. But I would gladly give up my body if it saved my sister. I’d do anything for Eliza. Anything. I would lie, steal, cheat, kill for my sister. She was all I had left in this messed up world. I was prepared to die if I had to. I would do whatever was necessary to save Eliza. I would find her. With The Tracker’s help. Courage, Jessica. You can do this. I fumbled with the flashlight I’d brought, shining the meager light into the underground tunnel. Nothing but concrete walls and blackness and endless

tunnels that veered off in different directions. As I stared into the darkness, panic gripped me. It was like a maze. If I went in there, I might not ever find my way out. Not true. I didn’t get lost. Ever. As long as I paid attention, I would find my way back out. Nothing but evil exists in there. Turn back now, while you still can. A soft hiss of air alerted me to another presence. My heart slammed against my ribs. I swung the flashlight around, searching the darkness. Nothing was there. A ghost. It was probably a ghost. Not that that made me feel any better. Taking another deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves. A ghost can’t hurt me, right? It’s dead. I let out a near hysterical laugh. That didn’t help me to relax at all. I wanted to turn tail and flee back to Augusta as fast as I could. You can do this, Jessica. You have to. It’s the only way to get Eliza back. Shining the light in front of me, I forced myself to cautiously enter the dark tunnel. Cool air stirred around me, as if someone had opened a door and the release of pressure forced the air through the tunnel. Something moved closer through the darkness—the ghost?—brushing against the back of my neck. Goosebumps jumped to attention on my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, ready to burst free from terror. The earth suddenly tipped down in a sharp incline, catching me by surprise. I stumbled forward, tripping and nearly falling, my legs automatically moving me down the incline, somehow keeping me upright. The ghost disappeared, its presence vanishing as silently as an owl in the dark forest. The ground gradually evened out and I slowed to a walk. Something small and furry darted in front of me. I let out a soft scream and leapt back, the sound echoing off the walls around me. The flashlight beam bounced

with my movements, giving the impression of things lurking in the shadows and inching closer in the dark. Hinting at danger everywhere. Get a grip, Jess. It was only a rat. And I’d just announced my presence to every creature living in here. Human or beast. There was no use creeping forward anymore. Whatever was in here now knew I was here. Not that I could have hidden for long. But I needed more time to gather my courage. Forcing back my terror, I stood still and listened. Quit being a wimp. If you hadn’t left Eliza alone and defenseless, she wouldn’t have been stolen. I shoved the guilty thought aside. I had no one but myself to blame for her disappearance. Another ghostly presence loomed in front me. Invisible, yet definitely there. It wasn’t giving off an evil vibe. Just—curiosity. Was the ghost wondering what had possessed me to come in here? Foolish girl, it seemed to say. A door slammed from somewhere in the darkness. My heartrate kicked up. Someone was coming. The ghost disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, just a small shift of air, then it was gone. I almost wished it would come back so I wouldn’t be alone. Not wanting to stand there frozen like an idiot, an easy target for any hungry creature that came upon me, I cautiously moved forward, counting my steps as I went, making note of each turn—right or left—for future reference. When it was time to leave, I would need to the way out. I’d been blessed with an excellent memory. I could store things in my mind and recall them later when necessary. Some people referred to it as a “photographic” memory, but it wasn’t only images I stored in my brain, it was memories, events, things. That’s why I never got lost. I always ed the way. Concentrate, Jess.

Shining the light in front of me as I went, I followed the tunnel deeper underground, rounding a corner, then another. Wall after wall of concrete, some of it crumbling with age. I noticed light sconces mounted high up on the walls, but the bulbs were either broken or non-existent. What was this place? Did people actually live down here? Corner after corner, deeper into the maze I went. Everything looked the same. Concrete. Darkness. Cold. No more ghosts greeted me as I ventured deeper into danger. Did they know something I didn’t? Were they too afraid of whatever existed in here? If the ghosts were afraid, then I was truly in danger. What was the purpose of an underground maze? Had the original owner of the plantation created the maze as a hiding place during the civil war? I let out a soft snort. Augusta needed a place such as this for the citizens to hide from the gang violence that had overtaken it a week ago. It was that very gang violence that had caused me to lose my sister. And the reason I was here. Augusta was smack dab in the middle of a gang war. East side versus West side versus South side versus North side. Whites versus blacks versus Hispanics versus Asians. No one really knew what the gangs were fighting for or why. Stores had been vandalized, businesses robbed. Citizens terrorized. Everyone was afraid to venture outside where crooks and thieves and rapists and murderers roamed. While most citizens had fled to safer, less populated areas, a few remained behind, barricading themselves inside their homes, valiantly fighting for what was theirs. I imagined it was only a matter of time before the government declared Marshall Law on the city. But until the military arrived— assuming they would arrive—we were on our own. The local government buildings had been among the first to be vandalized. The mayor and the city councilmen had been murdered. The district attorney had fled in terror. The cops had given up trying to control the violence after the gangs had slain over half of the police force in a brutal battle that had lasted for hours. The remaining cops had fled for their lives. The city had shut down, the government abandoning its citizens to the violence that lurked around every corner. No one was safe. No place was safe. Except here. In the quiet of the forest. Underneath the old plantation home. The violence hadn’t extended this far outside of Augusta. At least not yet. The dregs were smart. No one would bother them here.

No one except a desperate girl like me. Focus, Jess. Pay attention. I gave myself a mental shake, pausing to stare down the dark tunnel. Was I lost? to count your steps, all the turns, and you’ll find your way back out. I moved forward again, then rounded another corner and came up short. This part of the tunnel was lined with doors. Old servants’ quarters? A long corridor extended into the darkness. I stood there momentarily and counted the doors as I shined my flashlight down the corridor. Twelve. Six on each side. The twelfth door, the last one on the end to my left, was ajar, about ten or twelve inches, as if someone had forgotten to close it all the way. Or had left it ajar on purpose. I hesitated. Should I check it out? What lay beyond those doors? Was this where the dregs resided? A shiver crawled across my skin. I glanced down the tunnel at the open door again. Should I knock on one of the closed doors? See if anyone answered? Should I peer into the open room? Was it an invitation to enter? I walked forward, stepping toward the partially open door, goosebumps jumping to attention on my arms again as I cautiously ed each door. Just as I reached the open door, a sound came from within. A soft hiss, like something in pain. Or something slithering closer. I jumped back, pointing the flashlight in front of me, my heart leaping into my throat. A door clicked shut behind me.

I spun around, shining the flashlight along the concrete walls and down the dark corridor. No one was there. I sensed sudden movement behind me. I spun back around, the hair on my arms jerking upright. The door was all the way open now. Someone—or something— had pushed it open the rest of the way. I sensed a large presence as something moved just out of the beam’s reach, deeper into the open room. I hesitated. The room beckoned me closer, daring me to enter. Daring me to investigate whatever was inside. My heart racing, I stepped inside the room and shone the flashlight beam around. It was an apartment, small living quarters. I let the light bounce across the walls, catching a glimpse of a brown armchair and an end table before something smacked the flashlight from my hand, knocking it to the floor. I screamed and jumped back as a large presence loomed in front of me. Whatever it was—man or beast—it snatched up my flashlight and flicked it off before I could gather my wits and flee. Consumed by sudden darkness, I stood stock still, my breath turning shallow, my heart thundering in my ears, unable to see anything around me. I was completely helpless, blind in the dark, and at the mercy of whomever or whatever was in here with me. “Turn around, little girl, and go back the way you came.” The deep, gravelly voice came from somewhere off to my left. Close. Very close. “There’s nothing for you here.” I shivered and hugged my arms around myself. He wasn’t from around here. He didn’t talk like us native Georgians, his speech lacking the southern dialects common to this region, his vowels short rather than long and drawn out. I guessed he was from the northwest somewhere. Something about his deep, masculine voice intrigued me. I cleared my throat. He’d called me a child. I had to let him know I was an adult. “I…I’m not a little girl. I’m twenty-five.”

A low laugh came from the darkness. Was he making fun of me? I lifted my chin, wishing I could see whomever was in this room with me. “I’m looking for The Tracker. Can you show me where to find him?” “What business could you have with The Tracker?” The voice came closer than before, near my left ear. I jumped back. Swallowing hard, I dove deep for the courage I desperately needed to do this. “That’s between me and him. Do you know where I can find him?” A faint brush of air came near my right arm before the bag I carried was snatched from my hand. “Hey!” I reached blindly for the backpack. “That’s mine!” How did the man see so well in the dark? Or was he something other than human? A snort. Then a rustling sound. He was digging through the bag. He’d found my newspaper. He either thought I was a newspaper collector…or he knew I’d come here trying to deceive The Tracker. The bag hit the floor with a thump that made me jump. “What’s with the newspapers? You a delivery girl? No one subscribes to the paper out here.” I swallowed hard, unable to think of a response. The silence ticked by, making me more and more nervous with each ing second. “You thought to fool The Tracker with newspaper?” The voice rose with incredulity. My entire body quivered with fear. “I…I…” Stuttering like a fool, I clamped my mouth shut. It was true that there was no excuse for trying to cheat The Tracker, but I was desperate. He would probably kill me now. I squeezed my eyes shut and cringed, waiting for a painful blow that would end my life here and now.

Silence. A heartbeat ed. Then another. I opened my eyes. The room was still shrouded in complete darkness. I couldn’t see my hand if I lifted it in front of my face. Where had the man gone? Was he still close by? Had he walked out and left me alone in here? Wait a second. Was this man The Tracker? Why else would he be angry that I’d brought newspaper instead of real money? “Are…” I swallowed hard. “Are you The Tracker?” A soft hissing sound again. What was that? “I don’t do business with cheats.” The flashlight clicked on, the beam glaring into my face. I squinted, turning my head to the side. I don’t do business with cheats. Was he saying he was The Tracker? “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–” “Go now, little girl,” he interrupted. “Unless you have a hundred grand, don’t come back.” He thrust the flashlight into my hand. A hundred grand? I swallowed hard. That was a lot of money. I opened my mouth to try to negotiate somehow, but a big hand pressed between my shoulder blades, turning my intended words into an “oomph” and propelling me forward out of the room. Back out into the corridor. I stumbled and spun around, shining the light toward the stranger. The door slammed shut in my face.

CHAPTER TWO

Jessica I stared at the closed door. What the heck had just happened? Disbelief slammed through me. He’d kicked me out so fast I hadn’t even been able to explain my situation. Dammit. How could he do this? I needed his help. My sister’s life was at stake. I hesitated, then pounded on the door. “Please! I need your help, Mr. Tracker! I’ll do anything! Anything!” Silence. What are you doing, Jess? You don’t have a hundred grand. I don’t care. I need his help. I have to find Eliza. I tried again, lowering my voice. If I had to beg, I would. “Please, sir. I have nowhere else to go. I came all the way from Augusta. All the detective agencies are closed down. The police stations are locked up. No one will help me. No one cares. I know, you’re wondering why I don’t just hire a detective from Atlanta. Trust me, I already tried. They’re all too scared to venture into Augusta. You’re my very last resort. You’re the only one who can help me. Please. I beg you. I need to find my sister. I believe she was stolen by one of the gangs. She’s only sixteen. She’s just a child. Please, sir. She’s all I have left in this world. If you help me, I’ll do anything you ask for as long as you ask. Anything.” I waited a full five seconds before the door jerked open. I leapt back, shining the flashlight on him as he loomed over me. My mouth dropped open. My throat went dry. Holy hell! He was huge. Or maybe it was just my terror that made him appear larger than life. But at that moment, I swore he was easily six and a half—maybe seven— feet tall. Muscles bulged from beneath a black T-shirt that clung to his torso. Faded denims hugged his firm hips and leather, lace-up boots dressed his large

feet. Injured? Where? He looked powerful. Mean. Dangerous. How could he be a wounded warrior? Some wounds aren’t physical, Jess. Some injuries are of the mind, the soul, not the body. I gave an involuntary shiver. Was he a lunatic? Maybe he wasn’t a dreg. Maybe he was something else entirely. Maybe he wasn’t even human. “Anything?” The deep rumble of his voice urged me to look up into his face. Silver eyes glared at me as I shone the flashlight over his features. He squinted but he didn’t flinch or attempt to evade the light. He simply stood there and watched me, unaffected by the beam’s glare. Heat crept into my cheeks as awareness snaked through me. Was he checking me out? I couldn’t back down now. Show no fear. Swallowing hard, I slowly looked him over. His black hair was cut short on the sides and longer on the top. His face was clean-shaven, his jaw square, hinting at stubbornness, his nose a little misshapen —too many breaks? I wouldn’t call him handsome—not exactly, though he had a strong, interesting face. He was too rough, too harsh to be considered handsome. If I were to guess, I would say he was in his mid-to-late twenties. There was a hard edge about him that warned a person to steer clear. He exhibited a toughness, a meanness that stated, I’m dangerous. I’ll fuck you up. Good God, he was breathtaking. The most masculine man I’d ever seen. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His gaze bored into me, his intense scrutiny making my heart race. He wasn’t at all what I pictured The Tracker to look like. Not even close. I’m embarrassed to it that I’d imagined The Tracker as a frightening beast, not really human. But the man standing in front of me definitely looked human. A perfect specimen of manliness.

I cleared my throat. “You’re…not what I thought you’d be.” Amusement danced in his silver eyes. He quirked a dark brow, the corner of his lip twisting up in a smirk. “And what were you expecting?” “A beast,” I whispered. He chuckled. “Oh, I’m a beast all right.” Something flashed in his eyes. Something dangerous that made my heart want to bolt from my chest. Drawing in a deep breath, I asked, “Are you sure you’re The Tracker? You don’t look injured to me. I thought all the dregs had injuries that forced them into retirement.” That dark brow shot up again. “Is that the rumor going around? What do people say ?” “Um, just that you were all soldiers once, but injuries prevented you from continuing your duties, so whoever employed you discharged you, cast you aside. And now you’re being hunted, because lots of people want you dead for things you’ve done. So you reside here, hiding out like criminals on the run.” The smirk grew. He neither confirmed nor denied the rumors. Did that make them true? He tapped his skull. “My injuries are inside here. I’m loco.” He sent me a sly smile that made a shiver crept down my spine. Was he teasing? I shined the light back in his face as I glanced up into his eyes, searching for saneness. Was he insane? I got nothing from his eyes, nothing except a cold silvery gleam that I couldn’t interpret. My heart pounded. Dear God, what am I doing here? I cleared my throat and tried to hide my fear. “Are you sane enough to track down my sister?” A low chuckle escaped him, making me step back. “I don’t need to be sane to track. I just need my senses and my intuition. That’s why I’m so good at it.” What did that mean? Was he sane or wasn’t he?

I nodded slowly. I was going to assume he was sane. Otherwise, why waste my time here? “Okay, then. Let’s get down to business. What do you need from me to help locate my sister? She was last seen in Augusta in May Park wearing a yellow shirt with flowers and jeans with holes in the knees. She’s dark-haired, like me, with hazel eyes and a small build.” Also like me. Eliza and I were so similar in appearance, we could almost be twins. Except she was prettier than me. Men noticed her wherever she went, while they barely glanced twice at me. “If she was kidnapped by a gang, chances are you will never see her again.” I knew that, but I refused to give up. I refused to abandon her. “I’m not giving up until I know what happened to her.” His gaze narrowed. “How was she taken? Where were you at the time?” My face heated. “I’d left her hiding behind some bushes in the park while I went to try to find us something to eat. When I got back, she was gone. Please. Help me.” I hated begging, but I would do whatever I had to, to find Eliza. “Do you have a photograph of her?” He stepped out of the room and slowly walked around me, his gaze raking me from head to toe. I swallowed hard. “No. I wish I did. But she looks a lot like me, if that helps.” That sexual awareness from moments ago came back now like a wave crashing over me. My legs trembled. Why did the man affect me so? I don’t think a man had ever looked at me with such an intense perusal before. It was unnerving. It made my pulse race. Made me extremely aware of my femininity. When he looked at me, what did he see? He obviously had better night vision than I did. It was so dark in the corridor that I wouldn’t be able to see a thing without the flashlight. A chill crept down my spine. Was he even human? Should I ask him? Don’t be stupid, Jess. That might insult him. He let out a soft grunt. “It will be harder to track her without a photo. But I haven’t told you what I require for my services.” He paused in front of me. “Since you didn’t bring money, you’ll have to give me something equivalent to my normal fee.” His gaze raked down my body and back up. He was trying to frighten me. And it was working. “You might not like what I want from you.”

I bravely lifted my gaze until I was looking into those silver eyes. My voice shook as I whispered, “I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise. If you want me to die to find Eliza, then I’ll give you my life.” He let out a soft snort and walked around me again, this time stopping behind me. “Nothing as dramatic as that. Killing you will give me no pleasure.” I breathed out a sigh of relief. That was good. At least I wasn’t going to die. What would give him pleasure? I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know. But I was doing this for Eliza. I would endure whatever I had to for her. “Then what do you want?” I squeaked. He walked around to stand in front of me again, his movements slow and deliberate. He slowly scrutinized every inch of my body, his perusal making my heart pound as he stripped me bare with his eyes. Oh God. “I want you.” That low, gravelly voice sent a shiver of fear down my spine. “For as long as I want. You will do whatever I say, whenever I say, whatever I want, whenever I want it. Do we have a deal?” His brow shot up expectantly, his hard gaze filling with challenge. I swallowed hard. What did he mean, exactly? Was I to be his slave until he found Eliza? Or did he have something more sinister in mind? The cold gleam in his eye told me he was serious. But I also sensed he was trying to scare me off. He didn’t really want to help me. He just wanted me to leave. I had no doubt that if I agreed to the deal, that I would have to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. For as long as he wanted. This wasn’t a man who went back on his word. I tamped my fear back, pushing it as far down as I could. This was for Eliza. I wasn’t giving up on my sister. I would find her. “What–?” I drew in a deep breath, puffed it out. Tried again. “What if you can’t find Eliza?”

His silver gaze locked on mine. “Oh, I will find your sister. Dead or alive. I expect partial payment up front. And periodic payments until I find her.” Periodic. What did that mean? Once a day? Once a week? What kind of “payments” did he expect from me? Didn’t matter. I was doing this for Eliza. “Okay.” My voice came out as a breathless squeak. “We have a deal. When do I start?” His brow shot up again. Was he surprised that I’d agreed to the deal? Then he grinned. “Right now.” He turned me back toward the apartment and shoved me forward. I stumbled into the room, the flashlight beam bouncing along the walls. “Clean the apartment, make the bed, sanitize the bathroom and kitchen areas. Then make me something to eat. There’s plenty of food in the fridge and I just restocked the pantry.” That cold gleam was back in his eyes. I instinctively knew this was a man you didn’t say no to. “I want the entire apartment cleaned before I come back. This is your chance to prove yourself. If you can meet this task, then we have a deal.” So he expected me to work for free before he agreed to anything? “That’s not really fair–” I stopped short as his eyes darkened, narrowed. “You don’t like the deal, then leave.” He pointed out into the dark hallway. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from blurting something else that would get me kicked out of here before I found my sister. He waited a beat, watching my face. “No, it’s okay. I’ll do it.” He stared at me a moment longer, then headed down the corridor. “Wait!” I rushed after him. “Where are you going?” He paused and turned back to me. “I’m going to put out some feelers on your

sister, see if anyone knows anything.” “Oh, okay.” That was good. But it meant he was going to leave me alone in here. For God knew how long. With who-knew-what residing in this maze. His lips twitched, amusement again dancing in his eyes. What did he find so funny about me? “Get to work, slave.” He walked away, quickly disappearing into the darkness. Slave. I stared down the dark corridor, listening as his soft footfalls echoed off the walls. A sound came from the other end of the tunnel, making my hair stand on end. I scurried back into his apartment and slammed the door, my heart racing. I was trapped here. Sort of. Though I knew how to get back out of the maze of tunnels that lead to the surface—thanks to my photographic memory—I couldn’t leave until The Tracker found Eliza. Besides, I was too scared to venture back out into that corridor now that he was gone. His apartment was safer than those dark tunnels. I could lock the door if I had to. But I was now alone inside an insane dreg’s lair. Beneath a haunted plantation. Deep in a forest. His slave. For as long as he wanted.

CHAPTER THREE

Jessica There was a light switch by the door. Of course, there was. I flicked it on and glanced around the room. It was a small, one-bedroom, modernized apartment. The Tracker didn’t have much in the way of furniture. Just an armchair, a small brown loveseat, and an end table that sat between the two. A large television hung on the wall across from the furniture. To the right, along the far wall, was a bookshelf packed full of books. He was a reader? Interesting. I had a hard time picturing the frightening man I’d just met sitting quietly reading a book. Next to the bookshelf was a small round table and chair. On top of the table sat a thick sketch pad and a packet of drawing pencils. Curious, I walked up to the table. The sketchpad was open, a partially completed drawing catching my eye. He was an artist? A lifelike drawing of a shirtless man covered the page. He knelt, his head thrown back, his mouth open in a silent scream. His hands were bound behind his back with thick ropes. The sketch was extremely realistic, outlining each muscle in his tied-back arms, the planes and angles of his rigid, muscular torso so lifelike, so detailed, it was almost as if I were looking at a real person. Even his short, tousled hair was drawn in intricate detail, each strand of hair so soft-looking and real. The word “Defeat” was scrawled above the drawing in bold, black letters. It was haunting. Heart-wrenching. I shivered and stepped back. What would cause him to draw such a disturbing image? My curiosity getting the best of me, I flipped through the sketchpad, looking at other drawings, wanting to know more about the man I’d made a deal with. The next page contained a rose with numerous, sharp-looking thorns on its stem with the title, “Beauty equals deadly.”

Another page was a heart with a jagged line cracking it down the middle. This one had no title. But then, it didn’t need one. I turned the page. A serpent of chains with locks connecting it at different angles and a skull chained in the middle. This one was titled, “Imprisoned.” I stared at it for a long moment. This represented as much pain as the first one. Perhaps more. I could feel it. What had happened to The Tracker to make him draw such heartwrenching things? Was this how he dealt with his pain? I flipped the page. A human skull with bloody eyeballs in the eye sockets. The title read, “Don’t look.” That one was a little creepy. I turned another page. This one was a naked woman with a body to die for. Busty and full-figured, she made thin women like me feel boyish. A smile touched my lips. The drawing was what all men imagined the “perfect woman” looked like. She blew a kiss at me, making me feel like she was real. Her other hand rested between her legs. A blush crept into my face. I flipped through a couple of pages, then paused. The next image could only be described as erotic. It was a naked couple, embracing. The woman’s back pressed against the man’s front. It wasn’t vulgar or indecent but, like the other drawings, extremely detailed. The man’s hands cupped the woman’s breasts while she arched back into him, their bodies so close together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The man’s head was lowered while he nuzzled the woman’s neck. My cheeks grew hotter. I slapped the sketchpad closed as awareness pooled in my loins. The Tracker was a very talented artist. I couldn’t deny my curiosity about his

drawings. About him. Did he have a girlfriend, a lover? If so, where did she live? Did she ever visit him here? What would she think if she knew I was here? Though I was eager to see more of his drawings, to flip through the rest of the sketchpad, I needed to get to work. I didn’t know when he’d be back, but I vowed I’d have the place cleaned before he returned. I couldn’t give him a reason to back out of our deal. I walked into the kitchen area, noting the dirty dishes stacked in the sink. I strode into the bedroom, seeing the queen-size bed that was unmade, the covers rumpled and tossed aside, as if he’d woken in a hurry and rushed out. A pile of dirty laundry lay in the corner near the door. He was cleaner than most, messier than some. It wouldn’t be difficult to tidy up the place. I walked into the bathroom that consisted of a toilet, a sink, and an old cast iron tub with a clear, plastic shower curtain. It was small, but at least he had the basic necessities, which I no longer had. And down here underneath the mansion, deep in the forest, no one would bother him. As long as I stayed, no one would bother me. Or would they? Would he me over to his dreg friends, let them use me as their slaves too? I paused at that thought, the idea making me shiver. Or would he protect me, keep me safe from the outside world? Safe from everyone except himself? Stop scaring yourself, Jess. He didn’t seem all that bad. Those drawings… Just because he’d drawn some disturbing images didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was his way of dealing with his pain. In truth, not all of the images had been disturbing. The one of the naked woman and the couple embracing had been frankly erotic. Maybe he was a romantic at heart. Or maybe he just liked drawing naked women. There was nothing wrong with that. Whatever. Giving myself a mental shake, I turned back to the task at hand.

Food. He’d said to make him something to eat. It had been two days since I’d had a decent meal. My stomach rumbled at the thought of food. But first I needed to clean. I could have this place cleaned before he got back. Easily. And I was going to have real food again. At least for tonight. Assuming he decided to feed me. Guilt stabbed at me as I imagined Eliza out there somewhere. Alone. Frightened. Was she hungry? Had her captors fed her? Was she hurt? Stop torturing yourself and get to work, Jess. You’ll find her. The Tracker agreed to help you. Just be grateful the man didn’t expect something else from you. Cleaning and cooking I could do. It was the other possible things he might want from me that terrified me. Those erotic drawings flashed through my mind. Did he expect me to have sex with him? Maybe he thought I was ugly. That was okay. It wasn’t like I was anything special to look at anyway. Or maybe he swung the other way. No, I doubted a gay man would draw pictures of naked women or embracing couples. And he’d seemed way too masculine. If all I ever had to do for The Tracker was cook and clean, then my end of the deal would be easy. I wasn’t afraid of a little hard work. I quickly set about cleaning the place. I found cleaning supplies underneath the bathroom sink, fresh sheets in the tiny linen closet next to the kitchen pantry. I stripped the bed, made it up with fresh sheets, and swept the concrete floors. Washed and dried the dirty dishes and put them in the kitchen cupboards. Scoured the bathroom and gathered up all the dirty laundry and dumped it in a pile near the bathroom door. Where was the closest laundry mat? How did the man do his laundry? When he got back, I would ask. Soon the place was spotless. So, I started dinner. Spaghetti was an easy meal to cook, and The Tracker had all the ingredients. I soon lost track of time as I prepared the meal. Sometime later dinner was ready, the sauce slowly simmering on the stove, the noodles cooked and ready to eat. Fresh garlic cheese bread waited on a plate covered with a towel. Though my stomach rumbled at the scent of food, I

ignored it. The Tracker hadn’t given me permission to eat his food, and I didn’t dare eat without his permission. I needed to find Eliza, and he was my only hope. I couldn’t anger him in any way. I couldn’t give him a reason to back out of our deal. But how will he know you ate anything if he’s not here to see? Snatching up a slice of garlic cheese bread, I practically inhaled it as I set the small table with one place setting, not daring to presume that he would invite me to eat with him. He never needed to know I’d stolen one piece of bread. I moved to the brown armchair and slumped into it to wait for The Tracker to return. Exhaustion set in. My eyelids drooped. What time was it? I had no idea. Late, certainly. Midnight? Who ate dinner at midnight? I would just take a quick nap before he returned…

A sound jerked me awake. I glanced around, confused. A man knelt across the room from me, doing something in the corner. The Tracker. My breath caught. I could see him more clearly now in the light. He was big and broad, his back muscles outlined beneath the black T-shirt. He leaned over something as he unfolded a blanket. “What’s that?” I whispered, leaning forward in the chair. “Your bed.” I came fully awake then, staring at the small cot he’d put together in the corner. A cot of my own was certainly better than sharing a bed with him, even if it

might not be as comfortable as a bed. This meant he was letting me stay here. Gratitude swept through me. I didn’t have to go back out onto Augusta’s streets and try to find a quiet place to hide out from the gangs terrorizing the citizens. A cot in a warm room sounded wonderful right now. Being a slave to The Tracker wasn’t so bad. Eliza and I had been evicted from our apartment four days ago when one of the gangs had swarmed in and taken over the building, kicking out all the residents. They’d given us thirty seconds to leave. We’d fled with nothing more than the clothes on our backs. I didn’t have my cell phone, my purse, my car keys. No clothes or personal items. And no money. I wasn’t dumb enough to go back to try to retrieve anything. I did want to live. This was the first act of kindness anyone had done for me in a long time. “Thank you.” My words were heartfelt, sincere. His gaze sliced at me from across the room. “Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it to be nice. I’m doing it to keep you out of my bed.” What? A wave of heat washed into my face. He wasn’t being kind, after all. Did he think I would willingly sleep with him? Those drawings…What kind of lover would a man who drew like that be? Stop it, Jess. You don’t want to know. I was not attracted to him, no matter how big or muscular he was. No matter how talented an artist he was. No matter if he had a deep, sexy voice that was so different from everyone else I’d met before. A voice that drew me in and made me pay attention to everything he said. I cleared my throat. “What time is it?” “Five a.m.” I’d slept all night? Oh crap. The food! I jumped up from the chair. “I, um, fixed dinner. Though I guess it’s a little late —or a little early now that’s it morning—for dinner.” He rose and turned to face me. He wasn’t the giant I’d first imagined, probably just a little over six feet tall. Six one? Six two? But his presence was still

imposing. His big muscles intimidating. “Yes. I already turned the stove off. You left it burning.” Heat returned to my cheeks in a rush. “Sorry. I didn’t know when you’d be back. I wanted to keep it warm for you.” He glanced around the room, his sharp gaze taking in the cleanliness. I stared at his face, his strong jaw, his deep-set gray eyes that looked silver in the light. He really wasn’t bad looking, I decided. In fact, some women might even find him attractive. But not me. No. He was too…frightening for my taste. Too dark. Too dangerous. I’d never been attracted to dark and dangerous before. I wasn’t about to start now. Who are you kidding, Jess? Just it it. He’s hot. The man intrigued me like no other. I’d never met anyone like him. And I couldn’t deny he made my pulse race in a way no other man ever had before. Who was this dark warrior who lived underground? “Do you like it?” I motioned around the apartment. “I cleaned everything.” He grunted, then moved into the kitchen. He washed his hands in the sink, then dried them on a kitchen towel. He moved to the table and sat, glancing up at me expectantly. He was ready to eat. Okay. Apparently he didn’t mind eating spaghetti for breakfast. I hurried into the kitchen and quickly served him dinner/breakfast. My stomach rumbled again, reminding me I’d stolen only one slice of bread and that it hadn’t been enough to satisfy my hunger. His gaze flickered to my face, then moved down my body and back up, causing my cheeks to heat again. He motioned to the pan of sauce I’d just returned to the stove. “Go ahead. Eat. I can’t have my slave keeling over from starvation.” I hesitated, unsure if he was joking or not. His brow shot up. “You’re not hungry? You look half starved.” He paused, his gaze narrowing on me. “Or was that bread you ate enough to satisfy you?” Heat flooded my cheeks. How did he know? I lifted a hand to my mouth, a small

bread crumb falling off at the touch of my fingers. Oh crap! “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was going to wait for you, but I was so hungry I couldn’t resist.” His gaze turned cold. “If you want something, just ask. I’ll decide whether or not to give it to you. You’re not here because I want you to be. Just do as I say and stay out of my way. If I ever catch you stealing, the deal will be off.” I nodded slowly. No problem. “Did…did you find out anything about who might have taken Eliza?” He stuffed a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth and motioned to the stove again, indicating I should eat. I turned away, removing a plate from the cupboard and a fork from the silverware drawer. I quickly filled my plate and took the empty seat across from him. He watched in silence while I took a bite, savoring the delicious flavor. Food had never tasted so good. I moaned softly. I’d always been a good cook, but as there had been no food to cook since Eliza and I had been evicted from our apartment, I was starving. Slowly, his gaze dropped to my mouth as I licked spaghetti sauce from my lips. My heart went wild. I stared at his face. What was he thinking? Something predatory entered his gaze, something that made my breath catch. I dropped the fork, unable to look away from that predatory gleam in his eyes. “Eat.” He shoveled more spaghetti into his mouth. Drawing in a shaky breath, I did as he ordered, keeping my gaze lowered until I was done. He rose from the table, leaving his dirty dishes behind. “You didn’t say if you found out anything about Eliza,” I reminded. He turned around, his silver gaze skewering me. “I’m still working on it.” He strode into the bathroom and closed the door. Several moments later, the toilet flushed. Then the shower turned on. I rose from the table and cleaned up the mess. By the time he came back out of the bathroom, everything was clean, and I was sitting quietly on my cot in the corner, waiting for my next instructions.

He motioned to the bathroom. “Your turn.” I hesitated. What did that mean? Your turn to go pee? Your turn to take a shower? I couldn’t deny I desperately needed a shower. His gaze narrowed. “Shall I rephrase that, slave? Take a shower. Clean that stench off of you. I don’t want you stinking up my apartment.” I jumped up from the cot, my cheeks flaming. How rude! I lifted my chin. “It’s not my fault. One of the gangs kicked us out of our apartment. Eliza and I have been living off the streets. I had no access to a shower.” He snickered. “Oh, poor, pitiful you. I could teach you a thing or two about suffering.” He paused, his gaze scrutinizing me. “In fact, I think I will.” I swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” He stared at me for another long moment. Then he sighed. “Get clean.” He pointed to the bathroom again. I nodded and rushed past him toward the bathroom. His hand snaked out, wrapping around my forearm, bringing me to an abrupt halt. His grip was strong, firm. Unrelenting. Just like him. This was not a man who could be swayed. He did what he wanted when he wanted. He pointed to the dirty laundry I’d piled on the floor. “There’s a washer and dryer in Room 10, two doors down. As soon as you get out of the shower, you can go wash my clothes.” I nodded, keeping my gaze lowered. I could do laundry. No problem. He released me. I hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I leaned against the door and drew in a deep breath. We had to find Eliza soon. I wasn’t sure how long I could live with this man. How long would it be before he decided he wanted more from me than just cooking and cleaning? The sketch of the embracing couple entered my mind and I flushed. The way he’d stared at me over dinner…Did he want something more, something sexual? I swallowed hard. Whatever he wanted, I would have to give him. I couldn’t refuse. Not if I wanted to find Eliza.

He pounded on the door, making me gasp and leap away. “Hurry up in there.” I stumbled to the tub and turned on the shower. Quickly undressing, I stepped under the spray. I couldn’t enjoy the shower as much as I wanted, as I was afraid to take too long. I didn’t want to anger him. Once clean, I stepped out and dried off. I didn’t have any clean clothes to wear. I eyed my filthy jeans and T-shirt. There was no way I was putting those disgusting things back on. He pounded on the door again. I cautiously opened it and peered out at him. “I don’t have any clean clothes.” “I got you some.” He shoved a wadded-up pile of clothes through the door. “We don’t have any heat down here, so it gets cold. There’s some warm clothes.” “Th-thanks,” I squeaked, taking them from him. When had he gotten me clothes? When he’d gone out trying to find information about Eliza? He wasn’t a complete ass. At least he’d brought me some clothes. And he’d fed me. And he was letting me stay here. I closed the door and dressed in the fresh clothes, a red sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, and white socks. There was no underwear in the pile. The clothes were a little too big, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I had to tighten the string of the sweatpants to keep them from sliding off my hips. Glancing in the mirror above the sink, I snatched up the comb he’d left sitting on the countertop and tried to comb the tangles from my shoulder-length hair. Feeling refreshed, and somewhat presentable, I opened the door. He reclined in his armchair several feet away, a book in his lap. I hesitated. He looked hot sitting there, engrossed in his book. I had a weakness for intelligent men. As scary as he was, I was intrigued. What was he reading? He turned his head, scowling at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You need

something?” Heat crept into my cheeks. “No,” I mumbled, taking a step back. “I was just…” Curious about you. I lowered my gaze. He slammed the book closed, making me jump. “Let me make one thing clear, woman. You’re just a slave here. You don’t pester me. You just do what you’re told. And leave. Me. Alone.” Heat scalded my cheeks. Well, excuse the hell out of me! “If this is how you treat everyone, it’s no wonder you’re hiding down here underground. You probably don’t have any friends!” Okay, that was probably a reckless and impulsive thing to say, but I couldn’t take it back now. I stumbled back several more steps, then turned and fled to my cot in the corner. To hell with him and his laundry. He could do it himself! I plopped myself down on the cot and eyed him warily from across the room. Careful, Jess, my conscience warned. You just insulted him. If you make him mad, he might call off the deal. Fear slithered down my spine. Would he kick me out now? He quirked a dark brow. That silver gaze bored into me. “Insulting the only person who is willing to help you is not a smart move. Are you sure you’re serious about finding your sister?” The blood drained from my face. “I’m sorry. That was very thoughtless and childish of me.” I lowered my gaze, feeling chastised. “I promise I really want to find Eliza. I’m…really not a child.” I peeked back up at him. He very slowly set the book on the end table beside him, his gaze never leaving mine. “Really? You’re not a child?” He smirked. “Then prove it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Jessica Was he joking? Prove it? I swallowed hard, my gaze glued to his. “I’d rather do laundry.” His eyes narrowed. Then he threw his head back and laughed. A real belly laugh that came from deep inside and forced a small chuckle out of me in response. He had a nice laugh. A contagious laugh. Shocker. He waved an arm at me. “Go then. Do the laundry. But be careful out there. The other dregs might not be so nice to you.” I jumped up from my cot, relief sweeping through me. When I’d cleaned the apartment earlier, I hadn’t seen a laundry basket. which meant he probably didn’t have one. He remained in the chair while I gathered up the dirty laundry in my arms, making two trips, and dropped it by the front door. I was overly aware of his gaze on me the entire time, following my every move. “You’ll need a light.” Right. My flashlight. How the hell did he see so well in the dark? I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know. I retrieved my flashlight from where I’d left it sitting on the kitchen counter. Gathering up an armful of laundry, I flicked on the flashlight and opened the door. Two doors down. Room 10. The corridor was still dark and scary. Fortunately, Room 10 was easy to find. I turned the knob, glad that it wasn’t locked so I wouldn’t have to go back and beg The Tracker to help me get in. The laundry room was small, more like a closet, but no one else was inside, much to my relief. I turned on the light and loaded the clothes into the single washing machine. I didn’t bother sorting it, as most of it was dark colors anyway. Adding detergent and fabric softener, I turned the

machine on. I needed to go back for the second load of laundry, but I wanted a few minutes away from The Tracker first, some time alone. The man was too damn masculine for his own good. Too attractive. He scared me, yet still managed to make my lady parts come to life at the same time. I couldn’t believe I’d actually agreed to be his slave. You’re doing this for Eliza. Never forget that. There’s no shame in helping your sister. I slid onto the small folding table next to the dryer and put my face in my hands. I didn’t even know the man’s real name, and he’d never asked mine. If I had to live with him for days or weeks or months, I’d go insane not knowing what to call him. “Hey…Tracker.” I snorted. “I’ll just make up my own name for you. Tracker Dude. Tracker Man. The Tracker.” I deepened my voice on the last name and snickered. His taunting words came back to me then, making my cheeks heat. Then prove it. What, exactly, had he meant by that? Prove that I was a woman? Strip down and show him I had boobs and a vagina? I don’t know if I can do this. I groaned softly. What if he wasn’t really The Tracker, but just some guy I’d had the misfortune of running into first? My heart went cold. No. Way. I jumped off the table. I should have asked him for proof that he was The Tracker. What if he was just taking advantage of the situation and using me to do his cooking, cleaning, and laundry?

I was three steps out of the room before I halted. Crap, I forgot the flashlight. I hesitated, then shrugged and continued on without it. The Tracker’s apartment was only two doors down. Certainly I could find it in the dark. I marched the few feet down the dark hallway to his room, ready to confront him. I needed some kind of proof before I did anymore slave work for him. I turned the knob to his apartment, but it was locked. What the heck? He’d locked me out? Jerk! I banged my fist against the door. “Open up, dammit! I have to finish your laundry!” Silence. Seconds ed. I banged again. “Come on! Don’t be such a jerk!” A door behind me creaked open. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Slowly, I turned around. The Tracker stood behind me, his brow raised. “What are you doing, banging on The Smuggler’s door? He’s not very friendly. I suggest you get away from there before he comes out to see what’s going on.” I flushed hotly, from the top of my scalp clear to the tips of my toes. How the hell had I gotten so disoriented in the dark corridor that I’d gone to the wrong door, the one on the opposite side? In my anger, I hadn’t paid attention to which side of the corridor I was facing. Fool. The Tracker waved me into his room, his lips twitching. I darted past him, more embarrassed than I’d ever been in my entire life. For a moment, I completely forgot what I’d come back for. Oh yes. Proof of his identity. I spun to face him. “How do I know you’re really The Tracker? I need some kind of proof.” His brow shot up. “You want proof?” He chuckled. “You’ll get your proof when

I find your sister.” I shook my head back and forth. “No. I need more than that. You could be stringing me along, pretending to be The Tracker, all the while turning me into your personal slave while I get nothing out of it.” He cocked a disbelieving brow. “Nothing out of it?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t have food in your belly, a roof over your head, a cot to sleep on? How is that getting nothing out of it?” The door across the hall jerked open. A man with a gray hoodie pulled over his head glared across the hallway at us. “What’s with all the fucking noise, Tracker? I’m trying to sleep over here.” I detected a faint Hispanic accent in his words. Though his face was obscured by the hoodie, I could see his black eyes widen as he caught sight of me. “You pick up a hooker?” His gaze swept up and down me with contempt. “Huh. That’s not like you. You could have picked a prettier one, though. And one with some tits.” Heat spread back into my cheeks. Did he seriously think I was a hooker? The man must be half-asleep. I ignored the part about me not being pretty and having small boobs. I couldn’t change the way I looked. “I’m not a hooker! I came to hire The Tracker to help me find someone.” The man muttered something under his breath in Spanish before turning back into his apartment and slamming the door. “Satisfied now?” The Tracker drawled. I nodded. The stranger may have insulted me, but he had called the man standing in front of me “Tracker” so this man hadn’t lied about his identity. He really was The Tracker. “But I don’t know your real name.” His gaze latched onto mine. “I like it better that way.” “Why?” I demanded. “Am I just supposed to call you Tracker all the time?” “Yep. That’s what everyone else calls me.” I shook my head. “Fine. And what will you call me then?”

His eyes gleamed with wickedness. “Slave.” I snorted. Whatever. With a huff, I bent and gathered up the remaining dirty laundry, then swept past him and stalked back down the hallway to the laundry room. Shoving the door open, I stumbled inside, dropping the laundry at my feet. Drawing in a deep breath and slowly puffing it out, I leaned back against the door. I couldn’t do this. How could I live with this guy? He had me in such an emotional turmoil I was doing stupid, irrational things. I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle him or rip his shirt off and ogle his masculine perfection. I groaned. Men, in general, scared me. The Tracker most of all. So why was I even thinking about him in a sexual way? That wasn’t like me. Not at all. It’s not your fault, Jess. He’s hot. And you’re only human. Don’t forget you’re doing this for Eliza. Yes, that’s why I was here. For my sister. I sighed and settled down on the floor beside the door to wait for the first batch of laundry to be done. I wasn’t going back to The Tracker’s apartment until I had to. I didn’t want to come face-to-face with that overwhelming masculinity again until I had time to get a grip on my emotions. The time ticked slowly by. I stared at the washer, willing it to clean the clothes faster. The Tracker’s sketchbook entered my mind again, the image of the embracing couple making me blush once again. What would it be like to have The Tracker’s big hands on my breasts like the man in the drawing, his lips against my neck as he pressed that muscular body against mine? I gasped, heat spreading throughout my entire body. What the hell, Jess? Where had that come from? I grew warmer, my cheeks flushing hotter. Damn him. Why did he affect me like this? I didn’t want to be attracted to him. I didn’t even like him! But I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about all those hard, sexy muscles.

I groaned. It’s okay to fantasize, Jess. It’s not like he’ll ever know, anyway. The door crashed in, slamming against the wall opposite from where I sat. I jerked back, my heart pounding as a tall, burly guy with a thick red beard and tree trunks for arms marched into the small laundry room and dropped a laundry basket on the floor in front of the washer. He opened the washing machine. Pulling The Tracker’s laundry out, he tossed it aside. “Hey!” I jumped to my feet. “Wait your turn! I’m not finished yet!” The burly guy turned to glare at me, folding his arms across his massive chest. “Who the hell are you?” “J-Jessica.” I faltered under his glare. “I’m helping The Tracker.” I forced myself to hold his gaze. He let out a loud snort. “Since when did Tracker hire a maid? You’re messing with me, right?” He talked like Tracker, with the same northwest accent. They must be from the same area. The burly redhead eyed me, waiting for my answer. I cleared my throat. “I’m serious. I’m doing his laundry. So, please, wait your turn.” I marched forward, not sure if I was being brave or stupid, and stuffed The Tracker’s laundry back into the washer. The burly guy snickered. “It was already done. Didn’t you hear the timer go off? It just needs to go in the dryer.” It was? How long had I been sitting there lost in fantasies about The Tracker? My face heating, I opened the dryer and began stuffing the clean clothes inside. It was the front-load kind and low to the ground. I had to bend over to load the clothes into it. It was then that I noticed the man’s prosthetic foot not far from my face. He hadn’t walked with a limp, so I’d had no idea he was handicapped. Keeping my gaze averted from his prosthetic, I turned the dryer on and stepped back. Before I could stop him, the burly guy began tossing his clothes into the washer. Whoa…

I lurched forward, intercepting him. “I have one more load first. Please. Wait your turn.” I snatched his clothes up and threw them back into his basket. His eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared. I held my ground, though I feared he would pick me up and move me aside. I wasn’t normally this brave, but I sensed if I didn’t stand up for myself around the dregs, they would walk all over me. The man let out a soft chuckle. “Okay. Ladies first. I like you. You’re a sassy one. I’ll bet you keep Tracker on his toes. When you get tired of him, come see me.” He waggled his thick red brows suggestively. Trying to ignore the heat flaming into my cheeks, I stuffed the rest of The Tracker’s dirty laundry into the washer. “It’s not like that. I’m just doing his cooking and cleaning.” “Um hmm.” The man nodded, a big smirk on his craggy face. “Well, if he doesn’t want you, you can come warm my bed anytime, sweetheart.” I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with that suggestion. There was no way in hell I’d be climbing into the giant redhead’s bed. I added detergent and fabric softener and turned the machine on. “Come back in another hour, and I should be done with the washer.” He chuckled, leaning back against the wall to watch me. Trying to ignore him, I went back to my spot by the door and sat on the floor. The man was scary, intimidating. But I didn’t feel threatened by him. He didn’t seem to want to hurt me. The door burst open at that moment, and Tracker entered the room. His silver gaze took in the burly guy, then rested on me. I couldn’t read the man’s expressionless face, but something dangerous flashed in his eyes. He turned toward the other man. “You bothering my slave?” The burly redhead snorted out a laugh. “Slave? Since when did you get a slave? Can I have a go at her when you get tired of her?” Tracker’s eyes turned cold. “Leave her alone and let her do her job. When I’m done with her, I’ll let you know.”

What? Unable to ignore that comment, I leapt to my feet. “Excuse me! That wasn’t part of our deal!” The redheaded guy guffawed. “She’s a feisty one! You tell him, girl!” Tracker faced me. “Go back to my apartment and stay there until I tell you otherwise.” Embarrassed heat washed into my face. He’d just ordered me about like I was a…slave. I ducked my head. That’s exactly what I was right now. A slave. A willing slave. I’d agreed to this. He was helping me find Eliza. I had to that. My embarrassment grew. If I pissed Tracker off too much, he might back out of our deal. He might kick me back out on the streets and I’d have to find my sister on my own. I turned from the room without a word, my gaze lowered, and headed back out into the dark hallway. I’d left my flashlight in the laundry room, but I didn’t dare turn around and go back for it, not when Tracker was angry with me. I found his apartment and opened the door. Then I went to my cot like an obedient servant and sat down and waited for him to return. It wasn’t long before he was back. He made a soft, hissing sound as he closed the door behind him. I’d heard that hissing sound a couple of times before. I turned to study him more closely. He was injured somehow. If I were to venture a guess, I’d say it was either a foot or a leg injury. Had he been teasing when he’d said he was loco? Or had he also suffered some kind of psychological trauma that had messed him up in the head? He didn’t really seem insane. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at me. “Our deal was that I would find your sister if you do what I say, when I say to do it. That wasn’t debatable. If I decide to hand you over to The Gardener when I’m finished with you, you’ll go quietly and do what he says.”

The Gardener? That big redheaded guy was a gardener? I lifted my chin and held Tracker’s silver gaze. “I’m not a whore to be ed around.” That was my mother’s title and I swore I’d never be like her. It was because of what I’d witnessed men doing to her that I was afraid of men. I drew in a deep breath and rushed on, “I made a deal with you, and you alone. If you force me to sleep with you, I’ll do it, but only because I have to, for my sister. But I will not sleep with that man!” His gaze hardened as it bored into mine. “If I order you to sleep with all the dregs, you’ll damn well do it.” Fear slithered in, sinking deep. Was he serious? I would fight tooth and nail to avoid the beds of all the dregs. “No. I won’t!” Something flashed in his eyes, something dangerous that made my heart give a terrified thump in my chest. “Are you refusing an order, slave?” I swallowed hard. “Yes. I won’t do it. I can’t.” I lowered my voice. “Please. I’m not…that experienced.” Embarrassed heat swept into my cheeks. I lowered my gaze, fearing his response. Would he drag me into his room and force himself on me now? He let out a deep sigh. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Fine. Go finish the laundry. The Gardener promised to leave you alone. Now that he knows you’re mine, he’ll back off.” Now that he knows you’re mine. I shivered involuntarily. I was his now. Until he found Eliza. Or until he decided he was done with me. Right now, I was just a cook and a maid, a cleaning lady. But tomorrow, or the next day, he might decide to make me something more. As I stared at his harsh face, looked into his silver eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder: would that be so horrible? He hadn’t hurt me in any way. Not to mention he had a smoking hot body, all those sinewy muscles that drew a woman’s eye and made her want to stare for a very long time. Made me want to ogle every inch of him. Made me want to touch. The very idea of that hard, masculine body pressing into mine made heat shoot straight to my core. I flushed. No man had ever brought about the lustful longings in me that this man did. Then again, I’d never been around a man who was so overwhelmingly masculine before.

He waved at the door. “Go now. I need some quiet time to read. Don’t come back until the laundry’s done.” I rushed toward the door, hurrying past him. If he wanted quiet time, he could have it. I needed quiet time, too. Time to figure out exactly what it was that I was starting to feel for this insane, frightening man I’d foolishly struck a deal with.

CHAPTER FIVE

Tracker I’d lost my fucking mind. Had I seriously struck a deal with that woman? I had no business agreeing to help her. I wasn’t even sure which one of us would get the better end of the deal. I paced across my tiny living room, doing my best to ignore the pain in my thigh. Our dreg nicknames summed up our biggest talent—tracking, in my case. I always paid attention to detail, picking up any hint of a trail, any disturbance in the ground, the dirt, the rocks, the pine needles, the snow, the fallen leaves…I could track the enemy—or my target—anywhere through the forest, the desert, the jungle, the arctic, through any area not heavily traveled or destroyed by others. But tracking someone through a city overrun by gang violence, with spoilage around every turn, danger around every corner, was too much overload of the mind and senses. It was difficult to try to locate and follow a trail with all the distractions around me. I hated the city. This was a new experience for me. So far the only thing I’d been able to do was be a detective, asking questions and searching for a lead. Once I got a lead, things would change. Once I got a visual on my target, nothing got in the way. It was at that point I would center myself, stand quietly, and let my senses guide me. I became a missile, locking on its mark, veering in to take it down. I don’t know if it was a psychic ability or something else, but once I had a visual, the target’s present location (if living) or last location (if deceased) would generally flash through my mind, and that would help guide me to the target. That was why I always requested a photograph of my target. Without one, it was extremely difficult to track someone. So this mission would be different than my past missions. This time, I had no photograph, just the words of her sister to help guide me. I paused in my pacing. I couldn’t deny I was intrigued by my slave. She was certainly nothing like any woman I’d met before. I had honestly expected her to walk away after I’d informed her what I wanted from her. In fact, I had tried to scare her off, but it hadn’t worked. I had no idea where her sister was. Not even a clue at this point. I’d tried using my slave’s image as a visual, but had gotten nothing from it. Chances were that

if the girl had been kidnapped by a gang, then finding her would be difficult, and freeing her next to impossible. I paced forward again, spun around when I reached the bookcase, and paced back. Right now, I was coming out on top of our deal. I now had a cook and cleaning lady. But I was a man of my word. I was determined to honor my end of the deal. I’d gone into Augusta under cover of darkness and put out some feelers. Now—hopefully—I just had to wait for something to come back to me. It was only a matter of time before someone talked. Right? And then I’d take up the trail. Track the girl’s whereabouts. Through the damn city, whether I liked it or not. I would have to treat this like any other mission. I hadn’t lied to my slave. I would find her sister. Dead or alive. It just might take me longer than normal. I sighed and paused in my pacing once again. Now that my slave was clean of the dirt and grime that had coated her slim body, it was easy to see how pretty she was. She looked younger than twenty-five, an image of innocence and purity with her fair, fresh skin and that sprinkling of freckles across her cute nose. The complete opposite of me. I was the farthest thing from innocent. If she stayed around me too long, I would do nothing but corrupt her. I groaned and made my way back to my chair and snatched up The Assassin. I read the same paragraph three times before I gave up and slammed the book on the end table. I couldn’t get the woman—my slave—out of my head. I let out a soft laugh. Slave. I had a slave now. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I’d been a prisoner of war, a prisoner of my own “employer”. I knew what it was like to be a slave. But I’d never had my own slave before. She had big, expressive hazel eyes that changed color with her moods. I’d been fascinated, unable to look away as her eyes changed from a neutral green-blue to an angry gold-green blaze, then to a subdued light greenish hue. What color would her eyes be if I buried myself deep inside her and made her scream in ecstasy?

Don’t go there. She’s too good for the likes of you. I let out a soft growl. It didn’t stop me from wanting. I sighed. Didn’t she know I was dangerous? Loco? I couldn’t be trusted around her. I could all too easily kill her by accident. But I had a soft spot for females, especially innocent children, and her sixteen-year-old sister had been kidnapped. I couldn’t allow the perpetrator to go unpunished if I could help it. I would find her sister. And then I’d send the irritating woman on her way. I just had to keep her at arm’s length long enough to get rid of her. A loud knock came at my door. I leapt up from my chair. Now what? I wasn’t going to get any reading done today even if I wanted to. Way too many distractions. I made my way across the room, not bothering to hide my limp now that I was alone. I hadn’t wanted my slave to see my weakness, so I’d hidden my injury from her as best as I could. I think she suspected, though. I hadn’t been able to hold back a hiss of pain as I’d entered the apartment earlier. Sometimes my leg did that. Other times it was fine. Tonight, for some reason, it was giving me a lot of grief. I yanked the door open. Gordon aka The Gardener stood there with a grin on his face. He and I were partners, having been paired early on after our “recruitment” into The Company. My earliest memories started with him. Gordon had been my best friend from the moment I’d been recruited. He was a tough bastard, big and mean, but loyal to a fault. I could trust him with my life. We’d both been recruited the same year, him a few months before me. I’d been twelve. He’d been sixteen. “What do you want?” I turned away with a snarl. Each dreg was paired with another soldier before heading out into the field, much like in law enforcement where cops always had a partner. We underwent years of rigorous training and when we were paired with a partner, our strengths and weaknesses had to be compatible with our partners. One had to offset the other. If one of us was afraid of water, the other loved to swim. If one of us was terrified of heights, the other loved to climb. We emboldened each other, encouraged each other. I was grateful The Company had chosen Gordon as my

partner, as the two of us had gotten along from the very start. We were loyal to our partners, always looked out for each other. Even after discharge. Though I trusted all the dregs, Gordon was by far the best friend I’d ever had. He followed me, closing the door behind him. “What’s with the woman? All you said was that she was yours and to back off. That’s not like you. What’s up?” I let out a snort. What was up? Good question. What the hell was I thinking, allowing her to stay here? Making her my slave? I shrugged, turning to face him. “She needed my help, and I couldn’t tell her no.” His shaggy red brow shot up. “Her presence here compromises all of us. You know that.” I wasn’t sure who had started the rumors —our former employer, most likely—but most of what my slave had said was true. We were being hunted. We all had some kind of bounty on our heads. A lot of people wanted us dead. Which was why we hid down here underneath an old plantation home, haunted by evil spirits. Fortunately, not very many people knew of this place. And those who did, feared it, believing it was supernatural. The haunted mansion lured in a few brave teenagers every once in the while, but they never made it as far as the maze underneath, their terror sending them away almost as soon as they arrived. The spirits that haunted this place never bothered the dregs, perhaps because they sensed our souls were darker, more tortured than theirs. Why hadn’t the spirits frightened my slave away? She was either tougher than I thought and hadn’t let the ghosts frighten her, or she was as good inside as I believed she was. Possibly both. You couldn’t hide your true nature from a dead thing. They knew what lurked in your soul, whether it be good or bad. I’d sensed nothing but pure goodness in my slave. And strength. She wasn’t a weakling by any means. I dismissed Gordon’s worry. “She’s not a threat.” Gordon cocked a brow. “The beautiful ones are always a threat. Where’d you find her, anyway?”

I hesitated, then itted, “I didn’t find her. She came here looking for me. Tommy called me on the two-way and warned me she was asking about me and wondered what he should do. I told him it was okay to send her here.” Tommy was our unofficial sentry. A twelve-year-old kid who lived in Eatonton with an alcoholic mother who ignored him, the boy had been destined for a life of crime when we’d first caught him snooping around the old mansion not long after we’d moved in. He’d been ditching school and looking for entertainment in other ways. We’d scared the daylights out of him, then made a deal with him. If he stayed in school and kept his grades up, we’d reward him with a monthly allowance. We also took turns tutoring him when he needed help with his school work. In exchange, he warned us whenever someone was headed our way. His grades had come up over the past year and now that school was out for the summer, he had more time to watch for danger and notify us of any threats. “Her sister is missing. I agreed to help find her.” “No shit?” Gordon considered that for a moment. “She came here, all the way into the maze, and found you?” “Yep.” He shot me a disbelieving look. “No one finds you unless you want to be found.” I shrugged. True. But I’d lured her in, left my door ajar as an invitation. “As soon I heard her shuffling around through the maze, I knew she was harmless. I’ve never seen anyone get through the maze so quickly. She’s smart.” “Ahh.” He sniggered. “Smart and beautiful. If I saw her coming, I’d want to be found, too.” I ignored that. It was true she was an attractive woman, but she meant nothing to me. I was only helping her because I wanted to save her sister. An innocent child. “And you’re helping her find her sister?” Gordon persisted. “Yeah. Not that it’s any of your business.” He waggled his brows. “As dangerous as it is that she found you, I gotta say, that Jessica is a hottie. I’m jealous.”

Jessica? That was my slave’s name? That was more information than I wanted. The less I knew about her, the better. And the less she knew about me, the better. I was a beast, plain and simple, not fit to even lick the dirt off her feet, but I would never let her know where I’d come from or the things I’d done. She didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to be corrupted by me. I rolled my eyes. “Once I find her sister, she’s gone. Don’t worry.” He chuckled. “Are you going to enjoy that hot little body while you’ve got her?” “No. She’s not a whore.” Gordon’s expression filled with incredulity. “Seriously? You sure you’re not gay?” The teasing glint in his eyes made me want to punch him. Not sure why I was being so protective of the woman, I scowled. “It’s none of your business.” His expression turned serious. “I don’t know how you managed to maintain some decency when the rest of us became monsters years ago, but I gotta say I ire you for it. Though I don’t understand why you’re not taking advantage of the situation and having her warm your bed. Are you crazy, man?” He slapped me on the shoulder. “Well, if you need my help, just let me know. She seems like a tough little thing. I wonder what her story is.” He grinned, winked, then sauntered away. I snorted and closed the door after him. Gordon was good at “planting the seed” and then “watching it grow”. That’s why he’d been dubbed The Gardener. That and his ability to grow anything in the plant kingdom. He was good at “planting the seed”. Damn him, he’d just planted one in my head. I wonder what her story is. “I don’t,” I muttered. I went back to my chair, my leg aching the entire way. I snatched up my book again and tried hard to get lost in the novel. But instead all I could think about was a thin girl with big hazel eyes that did something to the deadness inside me, pulled hard at my humanity, and made me want to care.

Gordon was right that the woman’s presence here was dangerous for all of us. I needed to ensure her silence once she left, make sure she told no one about this place. Normally, that would mean killing her. But what was the purpose of trying to find her sister if all I did was kill her in the end? No. I wouldn’t kill her. I just wasn’t sure what I was going to do with her yet. Her innocence called to me, reminded me I was still human somewhere deep inside, and brought out a protectiveness in me I didn’t know I had. I didn’t want any harm to come to her. I would find her sister, I vowed. But I wouldn’t do it because I was ordered to. Not this time. I would do it because I wanted to. I would do it for her.

CHAPTER SIX

Tracker An hour later, my slave still hadn’t come back to my apartment. The laundry had to be done by now. What was taking her so long? Most of the dregs would leave her alone if she ran into them, but a few of them might assume she was there to entertain them. If one of them cornered her somewhere, she would be hard pressed to get away on her own. I don’t think they would force her into anything, but one never knew. She was a pretty girl and some of the guys might think she was playing hard to get if she refused their advances. Maybe I should go investigate. I rose from my armchair, my leg aching with the strain of carrying my weight. My femur had been shattered by a bullet that had literally ripped my leg in half during our last mission. The surgeon had pieced me back together with steel rods, but the bone hadn’t healed properly and after three surgeries, the doctor had told me I’d never run again. Even with all the experimental drugs in my system that had given me physical abilities that far exceeded a normal human’s, my leg couldn’t be fixed. I would never be one hundred percent ever again. On good days, I could walk a ways. On bad days, I hobbled around like a cripple. Thus, my forced “retirement”. I reached my door and stepped out into the corridor. Voices caught my attention and I headed toward the laundry room where they came from. Shoving open the door, I strode inside, ignoring the pain in my thigh. My slave—Jessica—was standing next to the dryer, folding my laundry while two other dregs—Ryan, The Extractor, and Luke, The Enforcer—flirted with her. They stood on either side of her, seemingly hanging on her every word, while they moved closer, silently caging her in so she couldn’t escape. In her innocence, she had no idea these two wanted to eat her alive and that their intentions were not good. There was a reason Ryan had earned the nickname The Extractor. He was famous for seducing women and extracting information from them. He’d secured a lot of valuable information over the years from the women he’d seduced. He wasn’t a bad guy. He couldn’t help it if women swarmed around him like bees to fresh pollen. I just didn’t want him anywhere near my slave. Ryan and Luke were players. Team players. A more experienced woman could probably handle them. My slave was too innocent for the likes of these

two. I needed to get her out of here before they corrupted her. Ryan noticed me first. “Hey Tracker, what’s up?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re harassing my slave. Leave her alone so she can fold my laundry.” Jessica turned toward me, her cheeks flushed. “They’re not bothering me. We’re just talking.” Ryan waggled his brows at me. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” That was it. I wasn’t going to stand by and let them degrade her like this. She was an innocent, not a damn prostitute. I bared my teeth. “She’s mine, guys. So back off.” “Oooh! Tracker’s staking his claim.” Luke snickered. “And we thought you were gay, man.” I barely resisted the urge to smash Luke’s face in. He got a perverse pleasure out of pushing people to the point that they snapped, and he loved doing it, loved making people get so mad they wanted to kill him. He was an instigator, through and through. “It’s okay, really,” Jessica persisted. “I’m fine. You can go back to your apartment. I’ll bring the laundry as soon as I’m done folding it.” Ryan smirked. “Yeah, go back to your apartment. She doesn’t want to play with you.” I marched up to Ryan, shoving my face into his. “I said back the fuck off and I mean it.” Silence. Jessica glanced from my furious face to Ryan, then Luke. Ryan backed off. “Okay, man. Sorry. Didn’t know it was like that between you.” He turned his killer smile on Jessica. “Whenever you get tired of him, come see

me, doll. I’ll show you a good time.” He winked. Jessica blushed furiously, her gaze darting to mine. Then she hastily began gathering up the folded laundry. “It was nice to meet you, Ryan.” She nodded at Ryan. “And you, Luke.” She lifted an armful of laundry and headed toward the door. I grabbed the rest of the laundry off the table, not wanting to send her back here with these two to retrieve it, and followed her out. I wasn’t sure why I was being so protective of her, but I couldn’t allow her to be taken advantage of. Especially by those two assholes. If she was going to be corrupted by anyone, it was going to be by me. She was my slave. Not theirs. She’d come to me. Me. Not them. We reached my apartment and she silently began putting the laundry away. I took the clean towels into the bathroom and put them in the cabinet while she went into my bedroom to put my clothes away. By the time she got done figuring out where everything went, I was leaning against the doorjamb of my bedroom, blocking her exit. She closed the last dresser drawer and came toward me. “There. All done.” She hesitated, then lifted her gaze to mine. “You didn’t have to be so rude to those guys, you know. We were just talking. It’s not like you own me or anything.” Irrational jealousy swept through me. So that’s how she was going to be? She’d agreed to do whatever I told her, whenever I told her. And that didn’t include flirting with Luke and Ryan. Damn her. I would have let it go, but now…the unfamiliar pang of jealousy made me step toward her. “I do own you. Until I find your sister, you’re mine. , slave?” Her gorgeous eyes flashed with fire. “I’m not a possession! And I can talk to whomever, whenever I want!” She lifted her chin, her hazel eyes burning a green-gold with flecks of blue. She was breathtaking. God, I wanted to sketch her. Her big, expressive eyes…the way she stood right now, hands on hips, head cocked defiantly. Lust stirred inside me. I didn’t want to just draw her. I wanted her naked beneath me. On my bed. Right here. Right now.

Down boy. “Do you have any idea what those two had planned for you?” Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?” “Those two like to double dip. You know what that is?” Her cheeks stained bright red. “You mean…like a threesome?” “Yeah, like a threesome. Except a little kinkier, a little rougher. Is that what you like?” She swallowed hard, her gaze locked on mine. She slowly shook her head back and forth. “I…don’t think so,” she whispered. “I…” she broke off and tore her gaze from mine. I’d scared her. Good. Maybe she’d keep her distance from the other dregs from now on. Though my experience with women was limited and I’d never had one living with me, I personally didn’t like to share my sex partners. If a woman was giving me her body, I didn’t want her giving it to anyone else until I was done with her. I was possessive that way. I wasn’t a romantic, I just didn’t like to share. While some of the other dregs brought women home and ed them back and forth, I never did. The other dregs joked that I was gay. As if. I liked women and sex as much as the next guy. I was just more particular than they were. I had a preference for pure, untainted beauties. Like my new slave. Slave. I had a slave now. A beautiful, sexy woman to use however I wanted. For a moment, the thought excited me as I envisioned all sorts of things I could make her do. Don’t even think it. I shifted my position, trying to relieve some of the pain in my thigh and the discomfort from my suddenly tight jeans. I remained in the doorway, blocking her escape. I didn’t plan on hurting her, but I wasn’t done with her yet. I wanted to test her, see what she would do if I touched her. Because God, I wanted to touch her. Was she as innocent as I imagined? I’d never been so tempted by a

woman before. She darted a glance up at my face, then quickly looked away. “Can I go now, please?” I motioned toward my bed. “I have another task for you.” She stilled. “I thought…” she broke off, her cheeks flaming. Damn, she was cute. Did she really think I would force her? Probably. She didn’t know a thing about me. I was a dreg. A soulless beast. And I was still pissed that she’d been flirting with Ryan and Luke instead of with me, and that made me even angrier. I wasn’t the jealous type. And I sure as hell didn’t have any romantic feelings toward the woman. Sure, I wanted her. What guy wouldn’t? I hadn’t realized she was so innocent until she’d said she wasn’t that experienced. It had changed my view of her big time. She wasn’t just another whore. If she had been, it wouldn’t have bothered me so much seeing her flirting with the other dregs. She had a sweet wholesomeness I found incredibly hot. A braveness I ired. A strength I wanted to test. An innocence I wanted to corrupt. I wanted her to flirt with me, dammit. Not them. And that pissed me off. She was making me feel when I hadn’t known how to feel for so long. I took another step toward her. She backed away. “What…are you doing?” “Come here, slave. I said I have another task for you.” A mixture of fear and panic flashed in her expressive eyes. She shook her head back and forth. “What if I don’t want to?” Her voice shook slightly. I sensed the determination in her. She was afraid, yet still resisting. Would she eventually give in, or would she resist me until the very end? A shot of pure lust swept through me at the idea of subduing her, of covering that hot little body with mine, of losing myself in her for hours on end. I originally hadn’t planned on touching her, but now…I wanted her. Her gaze darted down to the front of my jeans, the evidence of my arousal making her eyes widen.

“Come here,” I repeated more forcefully. She backed away. “No.” “Are you refusing an order?” She nodded. “I c-cleaned your damn apartment, I fixed your damn dinner, and I washed and folded and put your damn laundry away! But what have you done for me? Nothing!” “Nothing?” I repeated, raising my voice. “I’ve done nothing for you?” She swallowed hard. “Please, you’re scaring me.” I snorted. “Good. Now be a good slave and come here. Don’t make me chase after you.” Still, she resisted, backing up more. Another few steps and she would come up against the far wall. Did she really think she could escape me? She dived to the left, trying to dart around me. I leapt sideways and tackled her, knocking her onto the bed. She cried out as she hit the mattress with me on top of her. She fought and hissed and squirmed and spit like a feral cat caught in a trap, taking me by surprise. This woman wouldn’t go down without a fight. She was like me in that regard. A survivor. A grudging respect emerged from inside me. But I was doing her a favor by trying to find her sister. The least she could do was obey me. I straddled her hips, using my weight to hold her down, and finally managed to grab both of her wrists. I forced her arms above her head on the mattress and held them there until she quieted. “You done fighting?” Breathing heavily, she glared up at me, her gorgeous eyes a mixture of green, blue and gold and swirling with fear. Or was that arousal? She turned away before I could figure it out, bucking against me in another attempt at freedom, but all she succeeded in doing was turn me on even more. A part of me wanted her to keep resisting me, to keep fighting, so I could force her into submission. Except, I would never force her. I’d done some terrible things in my life, but

rape had never been one of them. If I kissed her right now, would she give in? Would she kiss me back? If she submitted willingly, there would be no force. Longing swept through me. I wanted her to want me just as much as I wanted her. I wanted her to give in willingly, to it she wanted me, so I could take her here and now and get her out of my system. I wanted that desire I’d seen in her eyes to be real. Jesus. I hadn’t even known her for twenty-four hours, yet she had me so mixed up inside I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with her. She was messing with my already screwed-up mind. I would never be content with her being just a cook and a cleaning lady. Not anymore. I had to have her. Goddammit. But willingly. Not by force. She finally gave up the fight and lay still, breathing heavily, her gaze frosty but also fearful. “That’s a good slave,” I murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never force you. I want you to come to my bed willingly, not fighting like a caged mountain lion.” She swallowed hard, her brilliant green-gold gaze locking on mine. “Never,” she whispered. “I’ll never come to your bed willingly. You’ll have to force me.” Is that what she wanted, me to force her? I would get no pleasure out of forcing her, and neither would she. I couldn’t take her by force. I didn’t want her by force. It just wasn’t in me. My slave was too innocent, too pure. She would want a tender lover, one who worshipped her body and gave her multiple orgasms. I wanted her hot and pliant, her eyes glazed with lust, her soft moans filling the air as I licked and sucked every inch of her. When I took her, it would be completely consensual. In fact, I would make her initiate it to show her I refused to force myself on her in any way. I could make her cook and clean—no problem. But if she ever decided she wanted sex, she would have to come to me. She would have to beg. I wasn’t touching her again. Not until she begged me to. I had a lot of self-control—another thing I’d been taught at a young age. This wouldn’t faze me. Not in the least. It didn’t matter how much I wanted her. I could resist. Resisting meant strength. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t resist.

I released her abruptly and slid off the bed. I drew in a deep breath, slowly eased it out. Fuck. I wasn’t sure if I could resist her. Damn woman was messing with my mind. What the hell was she doing to me? Making me feel things like jealousy and anger and lust. I needed to get rid of her. Before she destroyed me. She bolted upright, her eyes wild. She sprang off the bed and darted for the living room. I let her go. I took a few moments to compose myself, then followed after her. I needed her gone. She was making me crazy. Distracting me with lustful thoughts about her. I couldn’t deal with her right now. She would have to find someone else to help her. She huddled on her cot against the wall, eyeing me warily as I came into the room. She glanced down at my leg, noticing my limp, but she didn’t comment on it. “Leave.” I lifted my arm and motioned to the door. “The deal’s off. Go home. Get out of my apartment.” She jerked her head up, panic flashing across her face. “But–” “I said, get out!” She leapt up from the cot and took a hesitant step toward the door. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, yanking open the door. With a last scathing glance at me, she went out into the dark corridor and yanked the door closed behind her. I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face. Gordon might disagree, because he believed I still had decency in me. But she was right. I was a monster.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jessica I couldn’t believe he’d kicked me out. I stood trembling in the dark corridor, unable to see where I was going, desperately fighting back tears. What the hell had just happened in there? Tracker had kicked me out, called off our deal. Why? Because I said I wouldn’t go to him willingly? Well, if he wanted a damn prostitute, he’d have to go elsewhere. Now what the heck would I do? I had nowhere to go, no one who could help me find Eliza. You promised him you’d give him whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted if he helped find Eliza. I choked out a sob. That was easier said than done. The man scared me, yet still somehow managed to turn me on at the same time. My attraction to him frightened me. He was a dreg. He might not even be all human. How could I be attracted to a man like him? Would it really hurt to sleep with him? Probably not. But my unwanted attraction to him unnerved me. I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Giving in to him went against my nature. I wasn’t about to become like my mother. Used and abused by men. If I gave in, then he would think he had the right to use me whenever he wanted. I was a fighter and always had been. It was hard enough being his slave without having to surrender my body, too. I’d made that mistake once already, mistaking sex for love, and I’d vowed never to do it again. I stood there in indecision, staring into the darkness. The laundry room was two doors down. Maybe one of the other dregs would help me. Lifting my chin, I felt my way down two doors and turned the handle. Ryan and Luke were still doing their laundry. They both glanced up as I stumbled into the room.

“Whoa, doll, what’s with the tears?” Ryan’s pretty-boy face filled with concern. He and Luke were the complete opposite in appearance. Ryan was dark-haired and amber-eyed, while Luke had blond hair and piercing blue eyes. As far as appearances went, Luke’s blond good looks were typically the type I preferred, but I sensed a violence in him, lurking close to the surface. Anyone who went by the nickname “The Enforcer” had to possess a certain amount of violence in order to be able to dish out “enforcement”, and that made me uncomfortable enough to steer clear. Interestingly, I didn’t sense that violence in Tracker, though I was positive he’d done bad things, too. Both Luke and Ryan were big and muscular like Tracker and the redheaded hulk The Gardener. They were also handsome and charming. I had no doubt they were players. Both dregs came forward, eyeing me curiously. “Tracker…kicked me out,” I itted. “He broke off our deal because I wouldn’t s-sleep with him.” Luke cocked a blond brow. “What a bastard!” His words were teasing, an attempt to make me laugh. Luke had a slight hobbling motion to his walk. He had artificial knee implants after getting his knees shot out. “Can’t say I blame you,” Ryan joked. “I wouldn’t want to sleep with him either.” Ryan had only one whole arm. The other ended at the elbow where a high-tech prosthetic was attached, the result of his arm having been blown off by an IED. I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. They were trying to make me feel better and it was working. I wiped at my tears. “Are there any other dregs who can help me track my sister?” The two men exchanged glances. “Nope. Tracker’s the best.” Luke shrugged. “I just enforce…things, and Ryan here uses his expertise to extract information from the females.” He winked. I didn’t ask how Ryan “extracted” information from women. I didn’t want to know. “Neither one of us has his tracking skills.” I sighed. I’d figured as much. Now what would I do? Ryan put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “There, there. No more tears. Luke and I will cheer you up. Let’s have a party back at my apartment.”

Uneasiness swept through me. Had Tracker just been trying to scare me, or had he been serious when he said these two liked to partake in threesomes? “No, thanks.” I stepped away from him. Now what would I do? Who would help me find my sister? Ryan and Luke exchanged a long glance, something ing between them. “How did you get in here?” Ryan asked. “How did you find this place? Did Tracker bring you here?” I hesitated. Should I tell them about the boy who’d shown me the tunnel? Would they harm him? “I don’t want to get my source killed.” Luke scoffed. “You think we’re monsters or something?” I hesitated. “Yes.” Ryan snorted. “Despite what they say , we’re not all that bad. Was it a shaggy-haired kid named Tommy?” “Yes, I think that was his name.” Luke nodded. “If Tommy showed you the way, then Tracker told him to.” What did that mean? Had Tracker known I was coming? Was that why his door had been ajar when I’d first shown up? I cleared my throat. “So, Tommy’s your friend?” Ryan nodded. “And our student. He’s a good kid. But you can’t tell anyone else about this place.” His gaze hardened as he stared at me. “You really don’t want to know what we do to traitors.” He and Luke exchanged another glance. Was that a warning? Talk and I die? I swallowed hard. “I promise not to tell anyone about this place.” “Bah!” Ryan snickered. “We would never hurt you. You’re too cute. But hey, seriously, you can stay with me if you want. I’ve got a nice big bed.” He leered at me, waggling his brows and making me laugh. The tension eased out of me. I

liked Ryan. He was funny. Not so serious like Tracker. Though he flirted shamelessly, I didn’t think he would do anything to hurt me. Or maybe I was just too naïve and trusting. Ryan studied me a moment. Beneath the silliness and the flirting was a sharp wit. “What did you do to Tracker, anyway? I’ve never seen him act like that before.” I let out a huff. “I didn’t do anything to him. I spent half the night cleaning his apartment, cooking his dinner and washing and folding his laundry.” “Hmm,” Luke broke in. “He called you his slave. Why? I’ve never known him to mistreat a woman before. Hell, I’ve never even seen him bring a woman home before. You’re the first.” I cleared my throat. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Tracker hadn’t brought me home. I’d come here searching for him. But it sounded like I was the first he was letting stay. Well, until he’d booted me out, anyway. “He didn’t mistreat me. Not exactly. I didn’t have any money to pay him for helping me find my sister, so we made a deal that I would do whatever he wanted as payment for his services.” “That sneaky bastard.” Ryan tittered. “So, when he wanted sex and you didn’t, he called the deal off?” I hesitated. That wasn’t what had happened, was it? He’d said to come here and that he had another task for me, but he’d never groped me or touched me inappropriately. He’d never demanded sex. True, he’d tackled me onto the bed. I wasn’t sure why. But he hadn’t hurt me. He hadn’t even tried to kiss me or undress me or anything of the sort. Had all my terror been for nothing? He’d said he wanted me to come to him willingly, that he would never force me. Had he just been testing me? Oh my God. Had I overreacted? I groaned. I put my face in my hands. Maybe I should have just done what he asked and found out what he’d wanted. Instead, I’d panicked, freaked out. Because he scares me and I’m so damn attracted to him I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t want to become my mother.

“I think I made a mistake,” I whispered. “I think I overreacted.” Ryan snorted. “Not likely. Tracker can be intimidating. If you fled in terror, it’s totally understandable.” He said it so straight-faced that it took me a moment to realize he was teasing. His eyes twinkled with laughter. “None of the other dregs are as suave as me.” He winked. A soft laugh burst out of me. As handsome and charming as Ryan was, he didn’t make my heart race like Tracker. Thank God. There was no way in hell I was going to let myself be “extracted” by Ryan. What was it about Tracker that made me care? I let out a frustrated sigh. I’d only known the man for less than a day, but something about him drew me to him. I was intrigued by him. I thought back to when he’d had me pinned on the bed. I’d been more turned on than scared, I itted now, but I had tried to hide it by lashing out at him. If he’d tried to kiss me, I don’t think I would have resisted. Why didn’t he kiss me? Was he even attracted to me? Why am I even wondering that? Oh God. I’m so messed up. What was he doing to me? I stepped away from Ryan and Luke. “Thanks guys. You helped me realize I have to go apologize. I think I made a mistake.” I think I may have misjudged Tracker. “Whoa, what a minute.” Ryan stepped in front of me. “You’re going to apologize to him? No, doll. Don’t do it. He was out of line if you ask me.” Had Tracker been out of line? Or had I jumped to conclusions, assumed in my fear that Tracker wanted something he didn’t? What was I supposed to think when he says to “come here” and “I have another task for you”? Maybe he’d just wanted to tell me something.

Argh! The man had me so confused! I pushed past Ryan and headed for the door. Despite Tracker’s warnings, I think Ryan and Luke just liked to have fun. They were jokesters. Flirts. Very charming and attractive guys. But I wasn’t interested in either of them that way. Because all I could think about was a wounded soldier with silvery-gray eyes and black hair who expressed himself with beautiful drawings. Tracker. My heart gave a little jolt. He fascinated me. Who was he underneath his tough, rough exterior? I had to find out. I was going back there now. To apologize. Would he kick me out a second time? You can do this, Jess. “I’ll see you guys later.” I opened the door and went out before Ryan or Luke could stop me. I felt down the wall, two doors down, until I reached Tracker’s apartment. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door and waited. Would he answer? Would he tell me to get lost? Nerves fluttered in my stomach. If he sent me away a second time, I’d have to find someone else to help me. But there was no one else. Just Tracker. The door jerked open. Tracker stared down at me, his gray eyes dark and hooded. I cleared my throat. “I came to apologize. I want to go through with our deal.” He just stood there and stared at me. “Please,” I whispered. “You’re the only one who can help me. I promise I won’t fight with you anymore. I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want.” Heat flooded up my neck and into my face. His throat moved as he swallowed hard. He let out a deep sigh. “I don’t force

women.” I couldn’t resist raising a brow. “Then why did you tackle me and hold me down?” He shrugged. “You fought me. But I wasn’t going to force you.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I don’t force women. I let out a snort. “The other women don’t fight you?” Something indescribable flickered in his eyes. “No.” Of course, they didn’t. They probably fought to be with him, rather than away from him like I had. Silence stretched. I stared up into his face while he stared at something behind me. His gaze came back to mine. “it I didn’t hurt you, and I’ll let you in.” His deep, sexy voice broke the silence, drawing me in, captivating me. Damn, this man did strange things to me. My pulse raced. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. I stared at those bulging muscles and swallowed hard. “You didn’t hurt me.” It was true. He hadn’t. “For the record,” he continued. “I would never lay a hand on you unless you wanted me to.” He opened the door wider and waved me inside. “I shouldn’t have tackled you onto the bed. It won’t happen again.” Was that an apology? I hesitated, then stepped over the threshold. “I’m getting some rest.” He strode past me toward his bedroom. The door clicked shut behind him. I stared at the closed door for a good two or three minutes, half expecting him to come back out and drag me in there after him.

I don’t force women. Strangely, I believed him. I want you to come to me willingly. Had he meant that? Did he really expect me to go to him and beg him to take me to his bed? Not gonna happen. Though I couldn’t deny my growing attraction to him, there was no way in hell I’d beg him to make love to me. Not even. With a huff, I settled down on the hard cot and tried to get comfortable. But all I could think about was the sexy ex-soldier in the other room. And what he might look shirtless. Or naked.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jessica A half hour later, I picked up a thriller novel from Tracker’s bookshelf and settled into his comfortable armchair. It was time to stop thinking about the man and how he affected me. Forcing myself to concentrate, I began to read. A couple of hours ed as I became engrossed in the book. Lost in a fictional world of espionage, war, and government corruption. A sound from Tracker’s bedroom jerked me out of the book and back to reality. I sat up straighter in the chair. What was that? Another sound. Louder. A moan? I turned toward Tracker’s bedroom door and listened. A harsh sound. A gasp of pain? A muttered curse. More moaning. Gasps. What the heck? I stared at the closed door. “Fuck!” he shouted, his voice muffled behind the door. I leapt up from the chair, setting the book on the end table. I’m loco. Had he been serious when he said that? Or had he just been trying to scare me? He moaned again, more loudly. Was he having a nightmare?

I slowly moved the few feet to the door, pausing outside of his bedroom. I waited, listening intently. A muffled sound, soft and pitying. A whimper? Was he crying? I hesitated again, unsure what to do. Then he screamed, “Fuck you! Fuck you all! Fuck you!” I flinched. Definitely a nightmare. Or a man insane. I paused again at that thought, my hand on the doorknob. Tracker was a former soldier. A wounded warrior. I could only imagine what sorts of horrible things he’d done. Or had been done to him. What if he was suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress? I’d heard about soldiers returning from war with their minds all messed up. Could I help him somehow? Surprisingly, I wanted to. I turned the knob, which I discovered wasn’t locked. He must have assumed I wasn’t a threat and that I would never willingly enter his bedroom. Normally, that would be true. But I couldn’t ignore his pain. I gently pushed the door open. The light from the living room spilled into the bedroom, making it easy for me to see Tracker thrashing about on the bed, moaning softly. His chest was bare, his legs tangled in the sheets. A large, muscular man, he was a beautifully sculpted example of male perfection. And he was definitely having a nightmare. I cautiously approached the bed and paused. “Tracker,” I whispered. “Wake up.” No response. He kept thrashing and moaning. What could I do to help? Suddenly he went still, his breathing shallow. Was the nightmare over? I leaned closer and pressed a hand against his bare shoulder. Gently shaking him,

I raised my voice. “Tracker! Wake up! You’re having a nightmare!” He moved so fast I didn’t even have time to blink before he yanked me off the floor and tossed me on the bed. His big body smothered mine as his hand closed over my throat and squeezed, his eyes wild as they bored into mine. “Who are you?” he hissed. “Who sent you?” I gasped, choked. Clawing at his hand with my fingers, I tried to dislodge it from my throat. “It-it’s me, Jess, your…s-slave.” I swallowed, sucked in a breath, pulled harder at his hand. “P-please. You’re h-hurting…me.” His eyes slowly cleared. He blinked, then snatched his hand back as if I’d burned him. Turning away from me, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He let out a low growl and put his face in his hands. Silence stretched. I slowly sat up, eyeing him warily. Black ink danced along his shoulder blades and upper back, a serpent of chains with intertwining locks and a skull in the center. Oh my God. It was the same as the drawing in his sketchpad. The tattoo was quite detailed, the artistry striking, almost eloquent, as beautiful as the strokes of his pencil. What did it represent? Slavery? Being held a prisoner? What had happened to him? Was that why he’d made me his slave, because he’d once been one? My curiosity about the man grew. “What are you doing in my room?” he asked without looking at me, his voice rough, gravelly. I swallowed hard. My throat was tender from his hand squeezing it a moment before. But I was more concerned about his mental state. “You…were having a nightmare. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He snorted. “That’s why you have a cot out there, away from me, so I can’t hurt you. I could have killed you, woman.” He sighed loudly and pointed at the door. “Get out. And don’t ever come back in here if I’m sleeping. Do not, under any circumstances, cross that threshold if I’m not awake and coherent, got it?” I hesitated, wanting to help him somehow. “What happened to you?” I whispered. He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. “I said, out!” In a swift

move, he scooped me up from the bed. He hissed in pain and nearly dropped me. Straightening, he tossed me over his shoulder and hauled me out the room. Tracker deposited me on my cot in the living room and marched away before I could even react. I stared after him. “I just wanted to help you.” He halted at my words. Then slowly, he turned to face me. I stared at his perfect, masculine physique, thick with muscle, clad in only a pair of boxers. His impressive body represented strength. Power. Control. He was so tough on the outside. How damaged was he on the inside? “Don’t you get it? I can’t be helped. That’s why they tossed me aside like a bag of trash. I’m fucked up.” He smacked his forehead with his palm. “In here.” Our gazes locked. Something flickered in his eyes, giving me a glimpse of… what? Humanity? Vulnerability? My heart went out to this harsh man who seemed so cold and unfeeling, yet underneath, so badly damaged he believed he couldn’t be helped. Was there anything at all that I could do to help him? “Eliza and I went to counseling after our mother committed suicide,” I itted quietly. “She…wasn’t the best mother. I resented her for a lot of years. Sometimes I still resent her.” I paused, my cheeks heating. “It helps to talk about it.” No one else knew about that. No one knew that our mother had been messed up in the head and that she had taken her own life and left us all alone in the world. Losing my father had been too much for her. Or maybe the constant stream of men coming and going from her bedroom had finally taken its toll. I wasn’t sure why I was telling Tracker this. Maybe it would help him to open up and share something in return, let him know he wasn’t alone. His face contorted into something that looked like extreme pain. Then he uttered a sound that was part groan, part snarl. He laughed. A false laugh, full of bitterness. “My employer sent me to a shrink. She said I was unfit for duty, that I was suffering from severe PTSD, and that she recommended I be discharged from my duties because I was too unstable. And that was that.” My mouth dropped open in disbelief. “She didn’t offer you any more sessions to help you?”

He scoffed. “Why would they want to spend any more money on me? I was loco in their eyes. Fucked up because of what they’d done to me and what they’d made me do. They don’t care . They never did. We were expendable from the start. An experiment. They tortured us, messed with our minds, experimented with us like lab rats, beat us down until we craved death, then slowly built us back up and gave us a purpose in life. To kill.” He broke off abruptly, as if he hadn’t meant to say so much. I swallowed hard, my gaze still locked on his. They’d tortured him? Experimented with him? That was terrible! He was a human being! His purpose had been to kill? My God, what had they done to him? I didn’t want to think about any of that. I didn’t want to imagine him as a young boy being tortured. I didn’t want to believe the rumors that the dregs were all retired mercenaries. Killers. Whatever had happened to him, whatever he’d done, it had made him the man he was today. I could see that he was tortured deep inside, not broken, exactly, but definitely hurting. I’d seen his drawings. “I want to help you, Tracker. Tell me what I can do.” He closed his eyes and turned away from me. “I don’t sleep much.” The way he said it sounded like a confession. He sighed. “Sleeping brings the nightmares. And when the nightmares are bad like this, I need a distraction of some kind, something to get my mind off of the past. Sometimes I draw, if I can get in the right mind set.” I nodded. “And other times?” He stared at the wall as he spoke. “Sometimes I need something…physical.” Okay. I could understand that. “Like sparring with another dreg? Hitting a punching bag?” He jerked his gaze back to mine. “You could say that. We do spar a lot to help release our aggression and the anger that sometimes just builds and builds and won’t go away. But it doesn’t always work. Sometimes I need something stronger, something…violent.” I swallowed hard. “Like what?” His gaze hardened. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

The blood drained from my face. Did he mean kill someone? He couldn’t, could he? You don’t know him, Jess. He’s a dreg. A former soldier. He just itted he’d been trained to kill. “No,” I whispered. “I don’t believe it. You wouldn’t kill someone just to get rid of your pain and aggression.” He cocked a brow. “And how would you know that?” There was a hard gleam in his eye that said yes he would. My heart pounded. This man was suffering far more than I would probably ever understand. Yet I sensed he was intentionally trying to frighten me. Why? Did my questions make him uncomfortable? That just made me more curious about him. Selfishly, I wanted to be the one to fix him. I wanted to believe there was good in him, that he could be rehabilitated. That his soul could be…saved. “Is there anything I can do to help? We can talk, if you want. I’m a good listener. Or we can…play cards or something. Read together. Or maybe, I don’t know… something else.” Heat crept into my cheeks. He grunted, then he shook his head. “You’re so innocent, you know that? I can tell already that I’m going to corrupt you. Thanks, but no, there’s nothing you can do.” He went back into his bedroom and closed the door. He came out several minutes later dressed in workout shorts and Nike sneakers. His torso was still bare. The man was mouth-wateringly beautiful, even his damn legs. And the more I was around him, the more attractive he became. He wasn’t even my type. Too dark. Too brooding. So why the hell did he get to me so much? He headed for the door. My gaze followed after him, latching onto that hard, muscular back and the tattoo that vined artistically across his shoulders. What was its significance? Before I lost my nerve, I blurted, “What does your tattoo represent?” He paused at the door, but he didn’t turn to face me. He didn’t speak for a long

moment, then, as if the words had been forced out of him, he hissed out, “Slavery. Torture. Death.” I swallowed hard, my heart pinching at his words. If he’d been subjected to something terrible, why would he want to permanently mark himself with a reminder of what he’d gone through? This was evidence that there was a soul in there somewhere. I believed Tracker had feelings. Deep feelings. I’d seen those drawings and sensed the emotion that had gone into creating them. Had he put that tattoo back there so he couldn’t see it? Was it a reminder of what he’d survived? I wanted to understand him, but I sensed he’d experienced more horrors than I would ever understand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He jerked his head in a nod. “I’m gonna go spar with Gordon. Don’t wait up for me.” He left before I could respond. I stared at the closed door. Whether he was dark or brooding or not, I was now filled with a new determination. Cooking and cleaning and laundry wasn’t nearly enough repayment if he found Eliza. So, I would give him more. But not in the way he might expect. God, Jess, why do you even care? I put my face in my hands and sighed. I didn’t have the answer to that question at this point. Maybe it was the vulnerability I’d glimpsed in his eyes. Maybe it was the obvious suffering I’d heard coming through the bedroom while he’d been in the middle of a nightmare. Maybe I just felt the need to help an injured soul. All I knew was that I would do everything in my power to help him. I would find a way to fix him.

CHAPTER NINE

Jessica I spent those first few days at The Tracker’s reading the books on his shelves to keep my boredom at bay while he disappeared for hours on end, “following leads to Eliza’s whereabouts.” I was the perfect slave. I kept his apartment clean, fixed his meals, and stayed out of his way. I avoided his bedroom entirely if he was home, and when he was gone, I prowled the apartment, trying to figure the man out. I’d heard him thrashing around in the bedroom several more times, but I never went inside, never tried to rouse him. I did what he suggested and stayed away, even though I longed to help him. As concerned as I was about him, I didn’t want him to accidentally strangle me, either. I wasn’t sure how to help him at this point, but I wasn’t going to just give up on him and cast him aside like his employer had. He needed to know that he wasn’t worthless. So for now, I would show that I cared by being the perfect slave and staying out of his way. And hopefully, someday soon, he would open up to me. I never ventured out of his apartment, even though I longed for company. I didn’t want to give him a reason to call off our deal. He always returned at dawn, just as the world was waking, and slipped back inside the safety of his cold, barren apartment. I would dream about him at night, about his strong arms holding me close, his lips brushing against mine, his hard, muscular body taking mine in a sweet, blissful possession that had me crying out for more. I’d never dreamt about a man like that before. I’d never really wanted a man to do the types of things I dreamed about him doing to me. I was embarrassed that he affected me this way. The only logical explanation was that I’d never been around such a masculine man before. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to such splendid manliness? I would always wake alone on my cot, flushed from the realness of my dreams, feeling like a fool. I shouldn’t want him. And I sure as hell couldn’t let him know how much I wanted him. I was much too proud to let him know that. I want you to come to me willingly. Never! I wanted to change my schedule to match his, so I was slowly adjusting my

sleeping hours for the daytime and my awake hours for nighttime. If he was a creature of the night, then I would soon be too. He kept his distance from me now, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me. We rarely saw each other, and I suspected he planned it that way. He only spoke to me briefly to give me updates on his search for Eliza. When we were alone in the apartment together, he never engaged me in small talk. He would go to his chair and read a book, ignoring me completely. Or sit at his table and draw. I caught him looking at me a couple of times, his gaze scrutinizing, before he bent over his sketchpad and drew. Was he drawing me? I quickly dispelled that idea. I was average. Why would he want to draw me? Each time he came home, he would say it was another dead end. No clues to where Eliza might be. My worry and frustration grew with each day. Would he ever find her? On the seventh day, he returned to find me snooping through his sketchpad. He had been drawing me. I’d sat there, stunned, for a long time and stared at the detailed, realistic sketch of my very own face. Seeing myself through his eyes. The sketch was beautiful. I looked beautiful on that page, not average like I’d always felt. Did he think I was beautiful? The idea made my breath catch. I jerked back from the sketchbook as he strode in the door, my face heating as his gaze narrowed on me. He glanced down at the sketchbook, then back into my eyes. “I have a lead.” I slapped the sketchbook closed, not wanting him to know I’d been staring at the drawing of my own face in awe. “You do? Where is she? Is she alive?” “I don’t know yet. It’s just a lead. I’m checking it out later. Right now, I’m taking a shower. Fix me something to eat.” He strode into the bathroom. I hurried into the kitchen. He had a lead! He had a lead! He had a lead! Finally!

When he emerged several minutes later, smelling delicious after his shower, I served him a grilled cheese sandwich, tomato soup, and a glass of milk. He ate without comment, then leaned back in his chair to study me where I leaned hesitantly against the kitchen counter. “You need anything else?” His gaze slowly raked me from head to toe. The heat smoldering in his eyes made my face grow hot. He’d brought me a few more outfits over the past week —leggings, long-sleeved cotton shirts, socks, a couple of sweatshirts and sweatpants that weren’t as large as the first ones he’d brought me, but no bras or underwear. And nothing sexy, which surprised me. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or not. And I wasn’t sure if the man was uncomfortable buying underwear or if he just didn’t know what size to buy, so I had to make do with what he brought. I certainly wasn’t about to complain. Today I was wearing a pair of black leggings and a soft pink sweatshirt. “Come here, slave,” he murmured. I hesitated. There had been no mention of me “coming to him willingly” over the past week. I’d grown comfortable believing I wouldn’t have to do anything more for him except cooking and cleaning. Though my dreams had been filled with fantasies involving Tracker that had nothing to do with housework, they were just that: fantasies. I would never tell him about my dreams or how one look from those silver eyes could make me weak in the knees. The man was all I could think about. If he knew of my desire to be the one to “fix” him, he’d probably kick me out. He leaned farther back in his chair and spread his legs. He watched me, resting his hands on his thighs. “Did you hear me? I said. Come. Here.” Though he spoke quietly, his words were laced with steel. He expected me to obey. If I didn’t, there would be hell to pay. Oh God. I’d promised not to fight with him anymore. But surrendering went against my nature. Just do it, Jess. Surrendering might not be so bad. If he makes you feel anything like in your dreams, it will be worth it.

Forcing myself to be brave, I slowly pushed away from the counter. I took a step toward him, then another, my gaze locked on his. I stopped before him, just outside of his spread legs, not daring to come any closer. His gaze traveled down my body again, then back up to mine. He smiled lazily. “Come closer.” I swallowed hard and took a tiny step forward so I was standing just inside his spread thighs. He crossed his arms over his chest. I tensed, expecting him to touch me. He didn’t. His nostrils flared as if he’d suddenly picked up my scent. His eyes smoldered with something dark and dangerous. “It’s time for you to make another payment. You haven’t done much but lay around here all week while I’ve been out looking for your sister.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me. “Keep quiet. I’m talking. You owe me, slave.” “Jessica,” I whispered. “My name is Jessica.” Why wouldn’t he ever say my name? He grunted. Then his gaze slowly raked down my body again. Heat flooded into my cheeks. Awareness snaked through me. I found his perusal unsettling, yet, strangely, it turned me on. He looked into my eyes. “I want to draw you. All of you. Not just your face.” My breath grew shallow. Heat pooled deep in my belly. My core throbbed. All of me? As in, naked? “Are you s-sure? What if you don’t…like what you see?” Lust flashed in his eyes. “I already like what I see.” I gulped. He did? It’s all right, Jess. He just wants to draw you. Just do it. This is for Eliza.

“I…don’t know,” I whispered. No man had ever seen me naked before. “I promise not to touch you,” he murmured, his gaze meeting mine. “I’m an artist, a professional. You’ll be completely safe.” My legs trembled. Would I? I couldn’t breathe. I want you to come to me willingly. Oh God. Was he hoping I would ask him to make love to me now? That wasn’t going to happen. I want to draw you. All of you. Not just your face. Drawing isn’t so bad, Jess. He didn’t say anything about sex. I pondered that for a moment. I might fantasize about him, but that didn’t mean I could go through with those fantasies. The reality might not be anywhere close to my fantasy. And I’d vowed I would never beg him to make love to me. So why didn’t the idea of “coming to him willingly” repel me like it once had? His gaze whipped back to mine. “I want you on my bed, naked. So I can draw you. Go get undressed while I gather my sketchpad.” I swallowed hard, stepping back shakily as he rose from the chair. I stood there, my legs turning to lead, unable to move as he strode for the sketchpad on the table near the bookshelf. He picked it up and turned back to me, his gaze again raking down my body. He cocked a brow, then pointed to his bedroom. Lying naked on his bed would be dangerous. I would be vulnerable, exposed. Anything could happen. What if he touched me? What if he kissed me? What if I kissed him? He said he wouldn’t touch you. I swallowed hard. “I’m not comfortable being naked on your bed.”

He strode toward me, making me tense and back away. He reached me, pausing to stare down at me. “I said I wouldn’t touch you. Do you trust me?” I swallowed hard. Did I trust him? Not really. I lowered my gaze. “I don’t know.” A moment of silence ed. He sighed. “I guess I can’t blame you. Go, then. I won’t draw you.” He waved toward my cot. I didn’t miss the disappointment in his words. I hesitated. If he was only going to draw me, then I had nothing to be afraid of except my own modesty. I cleared my throat. Afterwards, would he set his sketchbook aside and me in the pose? Like the embracing couple he’d drawn? Heat spread throughout my entire body. I pulled my gaze back to his and found him watching me closely. What was he thinking? His expression remained unreadable, so I had no idea what thoughts ran through his mind. I cleared my throat. “O-okay. I’ll do it. But no touching. I…trust you.” If he remained professional and kept his hands to himself, I could probably do this. No touching. He stilled, then a slow smile spread across his face. The expression in his eyes turned gentle for the first time ever. Was this the same man who’d called me “slave” just moments ago? “Thank you. Your trust means a lot to me. I promise I won’t ever betray that trust. I just want to draw you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” His reassurance helped me relax and I turned and headed into his bedroom. He followed behind me, flipping through his sketchbook. “What did you think of my other drawings?” he asked as I hovered nervously

near the bed. “I know you looked at them.” My cheeks heated. “I…they’re amazing. You’re very talented.” “You think so?” I nodded, again thinking of the naked couple embracing. Don’t go there, Jess. Tracker turned his back to me. “Go ahead, get on the bed. I won’t look until you’re ready.” Along with clothing, Tracker had also brought me some girlie things, like fruity shampoo and conditioner, a pack of disposable pink razors, scented lotion, and strawberry lip gloss. I was especially grateful now for the razors, because if he hadn’t brought them, I wouldn’t have had a way to shave my legs and other areas. I quickly shed my clothes while his back was turned and settled onto the bed. I wished I had really long hair in that moment, so I could help cover my nakedness. I pulled my legs toward me so that my thighs blocked my torso from him. “O-okay. I’m ready.” He slowly turned, the anticipation on his face unmistakable. Had he been wondering all this time what I looked like naked? My face burned. He tsked. “You’re hiding. Come on now, let me see.” Heat scalded my body, from the top of my scalp clear to the tips of my toes. He stepped closer. I tensed, watching warily as he set his sketchbook down. “I lied,” he murmured, his gaze holding mine. “I need to touch you. Just briefly, to help you into the pose I want. Will you let me?” I swallowed hard and nodded. He smiled gently and leaned over the bed. My

heart thundered wildly as he slipped his hand over my thigh just above my knee and gently drew it down. Heat spread from his hand into my leg, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and making me overly aware of his touch. “Relax, slave. I’m not going to hurt you.” His gaze held mine as I slowly relaxed and let him pull my leg back. He reached for the other leg, moving it alongside the first one. He lined my thighs together, gently bent my legs and pressed them up toward my stomach, pushing me into a pose. “Perfect. Now lie back,” he urged. “Fluff your hair around your shoulders. Lean up on one arm and rest the other across your hip.” I did as he instructed, slowly relaxing under his guidance. I didn’t feel threatened or afraid anymore. I felt… “Gorgeous,” he murmured, reaching for his sketchpad and pencil. “Hold that pose. Don’t move.” For the first time in my life, I felt beautiful as I held the pose and let him draw me. He was all business, his gaze sharp, his hand flying across the sketchpad as he drew me. His demeanor changed as he drew, his expression relaxing, the harshness leaving his features. Drawing was how he relieved his stress, how he dealt with his pain. What worked better for him, drawing or the physical release like sparring? Certainly not the violence he’d hinted at. Killing. I still refused to believe that. The man sitting back on the edge of the bed, his hand flying across his notepad with each stroke of the pencil, was a completely different man than the one I’d first met. I stared at his face, deciding he was more handsome when he was relaxed like this. My breath caught. Could he tell how attracted I was to him? My nipples puckered with awareness. Embarrassed heat flooded my cheeks. I stared at his face, but his expression never changed. If he noticed how overly aware of him I was, he didn’t show it. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or disappointed. Time ed. The arm I was leaning on started to ache. Just when I was about to ask if I could stretch, he rose. “All done.” He turned the sketchpad toward me. “What do you think?”

I sat up, momentarily forgetting I was naked, and reached for the sketchbook. The woman in the drawing was beautiful, sexy…and didn’t look anything like me. I wasn’t beautiful, and I had no idea how to be sexy. “That’s…not me.” I handed it back to him. “I don’t look anything like that.” His brow furrowed. He studied the drawing, then glanced back at me, his gaze raking down my body. My face grew hot as I recalled I was still naked. Don’t shrink away, Jess. Be brave. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “You don’t have any idea how sexy you are, do you?” The huskiness was back in his voice. “This is you.” He pointed to the drawing, holding it up again so that I could see it. I stared at the detailed strokes of a truly lovely young woman lounging back on the bed in a sexy, seductive pose. Was that really me? The drawing wasn’t crude. My thighs blocked my nether regions. But he’d drawn my breasts in intimate detail, down to my small, pert nipples that jutted out in obvious arousal. I wasn’t well endowed like the other woman he’d drawn, far less shapely, but he’d still captured my femaleness, the gentle roundness of my hips, the dip in my tummy, my flushed cheeks hinting at my obvious attraction to him. The image was quite stunning. Embarrassing. I flushed hotly and lowered my gaze. My God, that really was me. I wanted to deny my attraction to this man, but it was impossible. He was an artist. He missed nothing. He chuckled softly. “Why do I get the impression I’m the first man to see you like this?” Heat scalded my cheeks again. Because he was, but I wasn’t itting that. I suddenly felt too exposed. I needed to get away from him. “Are we done here?” My voice came out sounding shrill. I forced myself to meet his gaze, my cheeks still on fire. He slapped the sketchpad closed. “Yes. You can go now, slave. Next time I will

draw you in a different pose, a more erotic one, I think.” Next time? I swallowed hard. What if I didn’t want a next time? I tried not to think about what he meant by “more erotic”. His eyes flashed with mockery and his lips twitched. The old Tracker was back. He was making fun of me. Again. I moved to get off the bed, eager to get away from him. He stepped aside to let me , then flinched, letting out a soft hiss of pain. His leg buckled, and the next thing I knew, we were both falling back on the bed, me flat out on my back underneath him. I froze, my gaze darting to his. My mind flashed back to the other time I’d been smashed beneath him on this bed. Then, I’d been fully clothed. Now, I was buck naked. Arousal flared deep inside me, centering in my core. Neither one of us moved. Neither one of us spoke. His eyes slowly changed from a light gray to a dark silvery slate. His nostrils flared slightly. Then he dipped his head, just a bit, and I swore he inhaled, breathing me in. I flushed hotly, my gaze never leaving his. What did I smell like to him? Unable to resist, I breathed him in too, his clean masculine scent mixed with a hint of aftershave making me slightly dizzy with awareness. Damn, the man smelled as good as he looked. I stared at his mouth, at those lips that could spout harsh words, but had also spoken with gentle reassurance to help me relax so he could draw me. What would it be like if he kissed me? Would he be rough, demanding? Gentle, coaxing? Longing curled deep inside me. He leaned back on his arms, his gaze slowly roaming down my chest. My nipples puckered in response, awareness crackling between us. His gaze came back to mine. “You can deny you want me, slave, but your body is speaking to mine in a language as old as time. You should listen to it, follow its yearnings. You might actually enjoy the outcome.” I flushed even hotter, if that were possible. No. I don’t want to surrender. I don’t want to it how badly I want him.

He already knows. Mortified, I pushed against his chest, my hands coming into with a wall of muscle. “Get off me.” His lips twitched. He rolled sideways, setting me free. I leapt to my feet and immediately bent to gather up my clothes. “I’m going to follow that lead now.” He rose and strode for the door, wincing as he stepped on his right foot. I stared after him, then blurted, “What happened to your leg?” He paused, but he didn’t turn to face me. “War injury.” Then he headed out into the living room. War injury. I knew it. The apartment door closed behind him. I’m going to follow that lead now. That meant he was going to search for my sister. In broad daylight. That was dangerous. Had he forgotten people were hunting him? Or was he just desperate to get away from me? I dressed quickly and hurried for the door. Whether he wanted me tagging along or not, I was going with him.

CHAPTER TEN

Tracker I considered taking Gordon up on his offer to help me search for Jessica’s sister, then dismissed the idea. The rest of the dregs were probably all settling down now that the sun was up. I didn’t want to disturb them. I needed to do this alone. I knew it was dangerous to go out in broad daylight with a bounty on my head. And I could have waited until after I’d gotten some rest before following this lead. But I didn’t sleep much anyway. Sleep meant nightmares. And nightmares messed with my mind. The truth was I had to get away from my slave. She was too damn tempting. I’d seen the awareness in her eyes, the way her body had responded to mine touching hers. She wanted me whether she wanted to it it or not. And I wasn’t sure if I could resist her. As an artist, I always noticed the details. While drawing her, I’d noticed every little detail about her. Her long, slim legs, the gentle swell of her small, perky breasts, the tiny indentation of her belly button, her cute, dainty-looking feet, the soft curve of her hips...She was stunning, perfectly feminine. And damn if I didn’t want her. Getting out of my apartment and away from her was as much for my own sanity as it was anything else. Now that I’d seen her feminine perfection, I wanted her even more. It had taken every ounce of my self-control to not touch that soft, creamy skin, to not palm those gorgeous breasts. To not lick and suck and taste her everywhere. I groaned. She’d been frightened at first, her big, beautiful hazel eyes wide and wary. Then she’d visibly relaxed while I’d sat on the edge of the bed to draw. She’d been a near-perfect subject, holding the pose without moving. Her body’s awareness of me had made it difficult for me to concentrate, which was a new one for me. I could generally draw without any distractions. But every time she swallowed, I noticed. Every time her eyes flicked to my face, I noticed. Every time she breathed, I noticed. She distracted me. Everything about her was a distraction.

Drawing was my release, how I dealt with my past and the trauma I’d suffered. The sparring was more a physical release than any real therapy, at least for me. I’d only been trying to scare her when I hinted that I used killing to relieve the stress. But she was starting to get too close and I’d wanted to shock her into keeping her distance from me. Drawing Jessica’s perfect figure had helped me to relax for the most part, until the end when my leg had given out on me and I’d fallen on her. Then the sexual tension filling the air had nearly crackled with electricity and I’d forgotten all about everything except for the soft, feminine body beneath mine. It had taken all of my willpower not to take what I now craved with an obsession that was going to be my undoing. Her. The door in front of me jerked open and I stumbled back, startled. I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going, my mind consumed with my damn slave. Gordon cocked a bushy red brow. “You’re going out during the day? That’s risky.” It was a risk I was willing to take. To get away from her. And the sooner I found Jessica’s sister, the sooner I could get rid of her. “I’ve finally got a lead on Jessica’s sister. I want to check it out.” Luke and Ryan came down the corridor toward us, weaving back and forth, obviously drunk and returning from a night out. With them were two women, both blindfolded, prostitutes most likely. We had a rule that any women we brought home had to be blindfolded so they couldn’t give away our whereabouts. Ryan sniggered. “That slave of yours giving you blue balls? Wanna borrow Susan here for awhile?” It was impossible to imagine being with another woman when all I could think about was my slave. I turned away. “No, thanks.” Letting out a loud guffaw, Ryan smacked me on the shoulder, then they wandered off. Gordon glanced back at me. “Want me to go with you?” I couldn’t endanger my fellow dreg. It was one thing to put my own life in

danger by going out in daylight, but I couldn’t do that to my best friend. “No. I think I can handle this. But thanks.” He hesitated. “Okay. Well, I’m going to bed then. Stay safe, man.” I nodded and headed down the dark corridor. I knew this place like a rodent knew its underground tunnels. Even in the dark. I knew how many steps would take me to the first turn, and that if I went right I would end up in a continuous circle in the center of the maze, but if I went left, it would eventually take me back to the surface. It wasn’t that simple, of course. I had to count my steps to make sure I didn’t miss a turn one way or another. And there were a lot of turns. I could navigate the maze as well as, or better, than the rest of the dregs. Probably because of my tracking abilities and my attention to detail. Sometimes one of the other dregs ended up lost in here, and I was usually the one who fished him out. Whoever had built this maze hadn’t wanted anyone to find the end. But we’d found it, not long after we’d taken over the place. An escape hatch in the ceiling of the area we’d turned into our “workout room”. It opened up into what had once been a closet in the decrepit plantation home. We’d never had to use it yet, but in the event our hideaway became compromised, we might someday have to use that escape route to get away. Anyone else who entered the maze would likely get lost and possibly even die in here. Supposedly the spirits that haunted this place were the ghosts of those who’d gotten lost in the maze and died underneath the mansion. I didn’t know if that was true, though the place was indeed haunted by lost souls. The maze had likely been built back when the plantation home had been constructed, possibly to offer sanctuary to those fleeing from danger in those early times of American war and independence. The apartments had probably once been servants’ quarters, but had been modernized at some point over the years. The temperature stayed a near-constant sixty degrees, though sometimes it fluctuated a bit higher or a bit lower. That’s why I’d brought Jessica sweatshirts and comfortable long pants to wear. I couldn’t have her freezing down here. How had Jessica navigated her way around in here with nothing more than that tiny flashlight? I got as far as the final right turn that lead to the surface before I realized she was

following me. Normally, I would have detected her the moment she stepped out of my apartment after me. But Gordon had stopped me, and then Ryan and Luke and the prostitutes had chatted for a moment, grabbing my attention. But the most distracting part—and the most embarrassing—were my own thoughts about her that had kept me from noticing she was trailing behind me. I paused, then slipped around the corner and waited for her to follow. She tiptoed forward, moving almost as silently as me. Feeling her way along the concrete wall, she stepped around the corner. I grabbed her, slapping a hand over her mouth and another hand around her waist, yanking her back against me. She let out a startled oomph and tried to break free. I spun her around, slamming her up against the wall, and pressed my body into hers. “Are you following me, slave?” She swallowed hard, her eyes huge with fight. I removed my hand from her mouth. She panted out several breaths, then whispered, “Yes. Well, kind of.” I lifted a brow. “Kind of? Explain yourself.” “Well, I have a photographic memory, so I memorized my way around in here that first day. I want to help you find my sister. I want to go with you.” She had a photographic memory? Interesting. She couldn’t be trapped in this maze any easier than I could. She could be an ally. No. Don’t go there. “You get your ass back to my apartment and wait for my return. It’s dangerous out there.” She squirmed against me. “I know that. I lived out there until I found you. But I’m not in as much danger as you are. I don’t have a bounty on my head. I can help you. I want to go with you. Please.”

Our gazes locked in the dark tunnel. I wish I wasn’t so aware of her, but I felt every inch of her soft body smashed against mine. “I know some people out there.” She sounded desperate now. “I can show you where Eliza and I used to live. I can help you ask questions.” I sighed. “I don’t need you tagging along getting in the way. Now be a good girl and go back to my apartment and wait for me to come back.” She shook her head. “I can’t stand to be in there another day. I’m getting cabin fever. I need fresh air.” “Fine.” I released her and turned away, heading for the surface. I understood cabin fever. I’d been locked in a cell for most of the past fifteen years. She hurried after me, stumbling in the dark. I didn’t help her. I refused to make this easy for her. If she thought she could handle the gang wars going on in Augusta, then I wasn’t going to be the one to stop her. I had a good idea now what had happened to her sister, but I wasn’t going to share the information with her until I knew for certain. I still didn’t have a visual on the girl, just a word-of-mouth lead. I was hoping for a visual of some kind soon, so I could lock in on her and track her down. I reached the end of the tunnel and stepped out into the early morning sun. A crow gave a warning call from the trees above. A gray squirrel scrambled up a tree trunk off to my left, chattering a warning as it scampered away. The fresh scent of the Loblolly pines filled the air. I breathed in deeply. This place here in the woods reminded me of my home. It gave me a certain amount of peace, being in the forest. I longed to go to my home in the woods in northern Idaho, far from civilization. But until the bounties were removed from our heads, I needed to stick close to my dreg friends. We all needed to stay together. I would remain loyal to them until the bitter end. If they needed me, and if I needed them, we were all right here together. Jessica reached my side, letting out a soft huff. She’d found me here. How long before someone else did? It might be wiser, safer, to return to my home in Idaho. But the other dregs might need me, and I couldn’t abandon my only friends. We’d made a vow—a pact—to stick together, to help each other out, until the danger had ed.

The danger might never . “Thanks for helping me out of the dark,” Jessica muttered, her sarcasm making my lips twitch in amusement. I had to it my life hadn’t been dull from the moment she’d shown up. It took me a moment to realize I was now referring to her as “Jessica” and not “slave”. I was starting to grow comfortable around her, “attached” to her, something I knew not to do. I needed to keep my distance from this woman. I had a feeling she could destroy me if I let her. “You chose to follow me,” I reminded without an ounce of sympathy. She lifted frosty eyes to mine. “How do you see so well in the dark, anyway? I stumbled around blindly in there, but you walked on like it was broad daylight. It’s not normal. It’s not…human.” I looked away, my gaze scanning the forest around us. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not all human.” My words were soft, filled with melancholy. I sighed. I wasn’t supposed to feel emotions. I’d been taught to not feel anything. Yet this woman made me feel things I hadn’t felt since I was a child. Why? I watched a woodpecker land on a tree and rap its beak into the side of the trunk. Tap tap tap. Jessica tilted her head back, looking into my face. She waited, not speaking. And her silence, her patience, finally urged me to continue. “None of us dregs are all human. Our employer treated us like lab rats, injected us with hundreds of experimental drugs to test our reaction to them. Some of the drugs…hurt me. Others…made me stronger. I have the night vision similar to a cat, as do the other dregs. I’m stronger than a normal man, I heal faster than a normal human, and I can tolerate far more pain than a regular human male. I don’t need much sleep—only four or five each night, but I can easily function on less. Each of us dregs are like a machine, a robot. We were taught not to feel, to endure extreme hardships, horrendous torture. But drugs can only do so much, and in the end, I failed my employer when my leg wouldn’t heal properly. No drug could fix my injury.” I glanced down at her, not sure why I was telling her all this, but wanting her to know just the same. “And nothing in this world can fix my fucked-up mind.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze never leaving mine. “That doesn’t stop me from wanting to help you.” I sighed, turning away from her. She might have good intentions, but she had no idea how screwed up I was. There was no fixing me. I headed toward the back of the mansion to the garage that housed my bike and all the other dregs’ vehicles. Jessica hurried after me. “Did you feel that ghost at the entrance?” I hardly noticed the ghosts anymore. “No. Did it scare you?” She shrugged. “Not really. I don’t think he wants to hurt us. He was just curious.” I snorted. “Curious about you, maybe. He already knows about my damaged soul.” That shut her up for a moment, but not for long. “So, what’s the lead you have on Eliza? Where do we go now?” “You’ll see.” We reached the garage. The garage had been built to look like a section of the rundown mansion. It was actually much newer, less than a year old, and blended in with the forest around it. We’d had it built after we’d discovered this abandoned place. Noah had researched the property online and discovered it was actually owned by the county, so we’d offered to buy it for cheap, and now we all owned the place. Anyone who came upon the old plantation home would think the garage was just a part of it. Though we kept it locked, no one had ever discovered it yet. Or if they had, they had no idea what it was or what it housed. Living beneath a haunted mansion had protected us for nearly a year now. I imagined someday someone might discover where we were hiding, but for now, we were safe. I headed for the overhead door that opened into the south side of the garage. It was painted to look like old, rotted wood and blended in with the rest of the mansion. I keyed the number code into the side of the building, then waited while the garage door opened. Jessica’s eyes went wide as she followed me into the huge garage filled with cars and motorcycles and other types of motorized

vehicles. “Wow,” she murmured. “I didn’t even know this garage was here. Talk about good camouflage. Do the dregs own all of these?” “Yes. We own the entire property.” I headed for my chromed-out Ducati that was parked between a purple Harley and a green Honda. The sporty Monster was more of a racer than a roadster. Gordon constantly teased me about it, saying it wasn’t a manly bike like his Harley. But I liked to go fast, while he liked to cruise. I’d never had a enger before. In fact, the bike didn’t have a enger seat, as it was made for one rider. But I liked the idea of having Jessica smashed up against me, plastered to my backside as I raced away at breakneck speeds. She followed close at my heels, taking everything in. “You guys must have been paid well to be able to afford all these fancy cars.” I cleared my throat. Did I tell her the truth? Or let her believe in her fantasy? “Yeah.” I decided to let her believe in the fantasy. She didn’t need to know we’d never been paid for our “work”, that we’d been forced to do the things we’d done. Or that we’d stolen the money from our “employer” to pay for all these “fancy cars”. “Oh! Look at that. Is that a Lamborghini?” “Yep.” I slid onto the seat of the Monster and picked up my helmet. “It’s Ryan’s.” She sniggered. “Figures. He’s such a ladies’ man. He seems like the type to have a fancy car.” I studied her face. What was her type? The flashy, flamboyant ones like Ryan, or the more subtle, quiet ones like me? She turned her head, iring several other vehicles—Jacob’s sleek silver BMW convertible, Luke’s red Camaro, Nate’s black Escalade—then, finally, let her gaze rest on me. “Is that a Harley?” I snorted. “Why does everyone think a bike has to be a Harley?”

Color washed into her cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe because that’s the brand everyone knows about?” I pointed to Gordon’s purple roadster. “That’s a Harley.” She glanced at Gordon’s bike, then back at mine. If Jessica was coming with me, she needed a helmet, but I didn’t have a spare. Gordon did. He was always taking ladies for night rides on his Harley. I snatched his enger helmet off the back of his bike and tossed it to Jessica. “If you’re coming with me, put that on.” She eyed the Monster a moment longer, then pulled her gaze back to mine. “If yours isn’t a Harley, then what is it?” “It’s a Ducati.” I pulled my helmet on. “You ready?” She lowered the helmet over her head and buckled it in place. Then she lifted her leg over the seat. I scooted forward as far as I could to give her room, but my ass took up most of the space. “It’s kind of a tight squeeze,” she murmured, moving around on the bike behind me, doing everything she could not to touch me, as she tried to get comfortable. I felt my lips twitching. She was going to have to touch me whether she wanted to or not. “I don’t mind if you don’t.” A pause. She finally stopped moving and let herself relax against me. “Um, I guess not.” Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around my waist. Awareness shot through me as her breasts pressed against my back, her thighs lined up against mine, and her small hands squeezed my abs. Shit. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “Is it…safe for us to go out during the day?” “No. It’s never safe.” I slipped my sunglasses on my face, then started the engine. So much for getting away from her. But now that she was here she might as well help me. Having Jessica along might actually prove useful. She said her sister looked like her. So, having a look-a-like to help follow the lead might come in handy today. I could point at her and say, “Have you seen a girl who

looks like her?” We left the garage and headed through the forest toward the small town of Eatonton. Jessica was silent behind me as we traveled through the trees, the smell of pine filling the air. Birds took flight as we sped past. Deer bounded deeper into the woods. After about thirty minutes, we came out of the forest and the little town of Eatonton appeared before us. Being an hour and a half drive from Augusta, Eatonton hadn’t been affected by the gang wars. The residents went on about their daily lives as if nothing had changed. Since it was unlikely the gang wars would spread clear out here, there was no danger in this quiet, peaceful town on the edge of the forest. No one here had to fear losing a loved one to gang violence. I had no surviving loved ones. No one, period. Except my dreg brothers, and eventually, even they would go their separate ways. I was as alone as a person could be. I had no recollection of my life prior to when my former employer had snatched me up at age twelve. Memory suppressing drugs had been injected into me from the very start. The only thing I ed was my first name, and there had been times when I’d even forgotten that. But I recalled every moment of my time as an “employee” of The Company. The captivity. The relentless torture. The pain and suffering. The painful injections. The brainwashing. The mind games. They’d tried unsuccessfully to kill me. Over and over and over again. But I was still alive. At least physically. My soul was another matter entirely. But that’s exactly how they’d wanted me. Cold and unfeeling. A powerful machine. A killer. Jessica waved at a woman ing on the sidewalk. Her presence in my life reminded me I wasn’t alone. Not anymore. She was here now. Until I found her sister. Then she would go. Abandon me. Like everyone else. The thought chilled me, though I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t want or need a woman in my life. She was nothing but trouble. So why did the idea of her leaving make me cold? “It’s a lot different here than in Augusta,” she said as I slowed the bike at a stop

sign. I nodded. “Yes. Life is normal here.” She glanced around at the small town. “It was dark when I came through here a week ago, so I wasn’t sure if it was affected by the gang wars or not. It doesn’t appear to be.” She paused, her gaze darting back to mine. “There’s nothing a gang would want from this small town. They’re territorial. They’ll likely stay in Augusta.” She nodded. “So, where are we heading?” “To Augusta. The most dangerous place around. You ready?” Her arms tightened around my waist, and for a split second, I wished things could have been different, wished I could have been different. Wished I could be the type of man that she needed, that she deserved. But imagining a life with Jessica was foolish. I would never be good enough for a woman like her. I was dangerous. I was too fucked-up inside. I was a dreg. “Yes.” She tucked her hands up inside my shirt, against my skin, her fingers splaying across my abs. I stiffened in surprise. “My hands are cold,” she whispered, and I glanced back at her, seeing her cheeks turn pink. “Hope that’s okay if I put them against you. You’re warm.” I cleared my throat as heat spiraled through me. Fuck, I wanted her hands on other places. Damn her, she was going to be the death of me. I revved the engine and the bike shot forward. But no matter how fast I drove, I couldn’t get the feel of her soft hands out of my head. When we got back I was going to draw her again. And then, I was going to make her mine. There was no way around it. I wanted her too much to ignore it any longer. I couldn’t resist her any more. I’d seen the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t aware. I’d seen the way her gorgeous breasts puckered in arousal when I’d drawn her, the way her breath caught, the way her eyes darkened with desire. She wanted me whether she was willing to it it or not.

I would just have to make her aware of that fact. She was going to surrender to me. Completely. It was inevitable. And when she did, I planned to devour every inch of her. I planned to make her mine in every sense of the word.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tracker Augusta was where Jessica’s sister had last been seen. There was a building there I intended to visit. A gang leader I intended to interrogate. That was the lead I intended to follow. I might be able to get a visual of the girl if I visited a place she’d been recently. Jessica’s arms remained tightly around me the entire drive, her body pressed close to mine, her soft hands clinging to my stomach and filling my head with lustful thoughts about what I would do to her when we got back. Did she seriously think she could touch me like this—skin against skin, her fingers gently roving across my abs underneath my shirt—and not expect me to reciprocate later? It was difficult to concentrate with her hands touching me, with her body pressed against my back, with her feminine scent filling my nostrils. If I didn’t pay attention, I would crash the bike. Forcing the feel of her from my mind, I made myself pay attention to the road ahead. We ed only minimal traffic on the way, and no one stopped us. No one bothered us. No one else was headed into danger like us. We had to be cautious, wary. Danger lurked up ahead, around every corner. Bands of opportunists were everywhere, taking advantage of the chaos left in the wake of the gang wars, preying on the upheaval that had been left behind. At last, we rolled into the city. Jessica sat up straighter behind me, leaning away from me. “There’s soldiers here,” she murmured in surprise, turning to eye the barricade the military had stationed just beyond the city limits. “Did they declare Marshall Law?” “Not yet. The government brought in the troops yesterday to try to help keep the peace, but I don’t know how effective they are or how long it will last. They’re not doing much except patrolling the streets and handing out food and water to those in need.” The military’s presence here was certainly helpful to a city that had been overrun by gang violence. But their presence might make it more dangerous for me. Before, I’d slipped quietly into and out of the city at night. Now that the military was here, they were basically the law, and they had the power to make us do whatever they wanted. If we went past that barricade inside

the city, then chances were we wouldn’t be able to get back out. And the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in this violent city, at the mercy of the gangs that had taken over. What was I thinking, coming out in broad daylight? Shit. I should turn the bike around and go back. A plan immediately formed in my mind. It had worked in the past on other missions. Would it work now? It might put me at risk. I might be dead before the end of the day. But I’d promised Jessica I would find her sister, and the only way to do that would be to go into Augusta and follow the lead. And we were here now, so we may as well continue. I brought the bike to a halt at the checkpoint and turned to greet the guard on duty. Two more guards stood farther inside the barricade, watching us. The guard at the entrance eyed me for a long moment, then swept his gaze over Jessica. “No one is allowed in or out of the city until we get this situation under control. You’ll have to go back to where you came from.” I glanced at the two other guards, who had turned to face us, their fingers moving toward the triggers on their rifles. They didn’t come any closer, though they watched closely. “How do people get to their jobs if they work outside of the city?” Jessica asked from behind me on the bike. “And what if someone wants to flee the violence here? You can’t force them to stay. That’s unconstitutional.” The young guard cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I’m just following orders here. It’s for everyone’s safety.” She huffed softly. My lips twitched. She was something else. It was time to enact my plan. I removed my helmet so the guard could see my face. “I’m not a regular citizen. They call me The Tracker. Perhaps you’ve heard of me. I have a mission inside this city. I really hope you’re not going to try to stop me.” The tall, blond sergeant suddenly jerked his body straight and raised his hand in

a military salute. “Sir!” I held back a surprised laugh. So he’d heard of me. And apparently respected me. Or feared me. I wasn’t military, at least not the good kind. Far from it. The kid was young, probably no older than twenty. Sergeant MacDonald, his name tag said. I returned his salute, deciding to milk this situation as much as I could. If he was going to treat me like a hero, I was going to let him believe that’s what I was. He didn’t need to know what I’d really done. The other two soldiers lowered their weapons, apparently deciding I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t think they could hear our conversation from where they stood. “What did your superiors tell you ?” I asked Sgt. MacDonald. He swallowed hard. “Just that if we encountered any dregs, that we were not to interfere or engage you in any way. That we were to let you without incident.” I smirked. “You’re engaging me now.” His baby cheeks turned red. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I didn’t recognize you at first.” “Enough with the ‘sir’. I’m just a regular guy like you.” This kid wasn’t a threat, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to become one. Because then I might have to incapacitate him, and the last thing I needed was the military after my ass. “We won’t be inside for long.” I motioned to Jessica. “Her sister is missing. Stolen by one of the gangs. My mission is to track her down.” I pulled my helmet back over my head. He nodded, his expression filling with awe. “Yes, sir. You’re crazy to go in there, but I won’t stop you. I can’t spare you any protection. Our job is just to stay here and keep people from entering or exiting the city until more soldiers arrive.” He cleared his throat. “Be careful in there.” And just like that, we were allowed inside. Would getting back out be as easy? “Thank you, Sgt. MacDonald.” I waved and sped past the checkpoint. The other

two guards moved aside as we drove past. “Were you in the military?” Jessica probed, her curiosity obvious, as we slowly cruised down the street. “What type of soldier were you?” “The best kind and the worst kind. Best meaning the most skilled. Worst meaning the most dangerous. We weren’t typical military, though our training was similar to that of the specialists.” “Like the Navy SEALS or the Marines?” “Yeah.” “Hmm,” she murmured. “Did you save people on your missions? Do heroic things?” I wouldn’t call the things I’d done heroic. “No,” I mumbled. “We’re the dregs, ?” She was silent a moment as she considered that. “The most worthless parts. That’s terrible. You’re not worthless. None of you are. I thought ‘the dregs’ was just a nickname, but it’s not, is it?” “No. We really are dregs. Worthless in the government’s eyes.” Comprehension dawned in her pretty eyes. “The government was your former employer?” She was smart, my little slave. “Not directly. My former employer is known only as The Company. They’re a private government contractor. But I suspect some, if not all, of its owners are actual of the government. It’s run by a retired Army general who’s as corrupt as they come.” Why was I telling her all this? She made a sound of disgust in her throat. “There’s so much corruption in this world. That’s why I went into law, you know.” Law? A soft chuckle of iration slipped out. She wasn’t a cop. She had the wrong vibe. What was she? “What did you do before the gang wars?”

She looked away for a moment, staring down the street. “I’m an attorney—or I will be, as soon as I take the bar exam. I graduated from law school in May. The gang wars broke out before I was able to sign up for the state bar exam.” “No shit?” I brought the Monster to a halt in an empty parking lot and glanced back at her. I’d never expected that, though I wasn’t sure why. I could see this woman going far in life. She was definitely way out of my league. This new knowledge about her only confirmed my belief that I would never be good enough for her. It would probably be best if I didn’t touch her when we got back. If this wasn’t proof that she was too good for me, then I didn’t know what was. “Really.” She turned back to me and smiled. “That surprises you?” I shrugged. “Not really. You’re a smart woman. You could be or do whatever you wanted.” Her gaze softened. “Thanks.” She hesitated, then asked, “Can I ask you something?” Wariness crept under my skin. I wasn’t good at talking with people, especially about myself. I nodded, and won another smile from her in return. Damn, the woman had a nice smile. I found my gaze zeroing in on her lips. What would she taste like? “I know it’s none of my business, but how much does a soldier like you make? I mean, is it like a certain amount per job?” I cleared my throat. “No. In all honesty, we weren’t paid at all. I lied about that. We were nothing but slaves, forced to do what we were told. We stole the money when we escaped. Noah hacked into their server and transferred millions of dollars into a different bank . We split it between us once we were free.” “You stole it?” Her eyes widened. Then she smiled. “Good for you. Noah must be another dreg?” “Yeah. He’s The Hacker. You’ll probably meet him soon.”

“Then you weren’t discharged? You escaped?” I sighed. “Both. We were discharged, but we escaped before they could execute us. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday.” She was quiet a moment. “Can I ask you another question, then?” Why not? She’d already gotten more out of me than anyone else ever had. “Sure. Ask away.” She cleared her throat. “If you could be anything in the world, what would you be?” Her question threw me. “Huh?” “Seriously. What would you want to be?” Good enough for you. I shoved the ridiculous thought aside. That would never happen. I shrugged. “I don’t know. Free, I guess.” She nodded slowly. “The bounty on your head. You want it gone.” Of course, I did. I would never be free until that bounty went away. “Yeah.” She looked away with a soft sigh. “I’m sorry. I wish I could do something about that.” She paused. “Can’t your friend The Hacker erase the bounties somehow?” I snorted. “He already has, many times, but as soon as he erases them, they put them back up. It’s a continuous battle that we’ll never win. And there’s no way we can travel from building to building all over the country and remove all of the paper flyers that are posted everywhere. It would be impossible. That’s why we stay hidden. It’s all we can do.” She was silent a moment. “I would do it for you if I could. I would travel everywhere and take down every wanted poster of the dregs. Every last one.”

Warmth filled my chest. I could see her doing that. She had a kind heart. I didn’t respond, my throat too tight to get any words out. Her arms tightened around me. “Would you tell me about your escape now? It’s going to drive me crazy until you tell me what happened.” I chuckled. “You know curiosity killed the cat.” She laughed and smacked my arm. Something inside my chest loosened. Being with her, talking with her, felt so damn good. No one had ever made me feel like this before. Like I was somebody special. I gave in, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as I could. “It’s tradition that after each ‘discharge ceremony’ the discharges are lined up and slaughtered. They’re never allowed to leave. They discharge us, then kill us. We’re not supposed to be allowed out in society, because we’re too dangerous. But I decided a few days before the discharge ceremony that I wasn’t going down like that. I was going to fight back. And I convinced the other dregs to me in a rebellion. Three of the dregs died that day. The rest of us escaped.” She was silent a moment, absorbing that. “That’s terrible. Assholes!” I chuckled softly. Then sobered. The truth was that most of the dregs probably didn’t belong in society. We were dangerous. Unpredictable. Fucked up in the head. If one of us lost it and went on a rampage, innocent people could be hurt. Innocent people like Jessica. I pushed the gas, sending the bike forward again. After another moment of silence, she said, “What if the city needs you to help fight this war? What if you can save lives?” I snorted in derision. “I don’t save lives. I take them.” That shut her up. I immediately regretted saying that, because I liked listening to her talk, I liked hearing her voice. And now she was silent. Dumbass.

We headed down another street, and another. Very few people were about. Several military personnel were here and there, patrolling the area, but not many regular civilians. I didn’t detect any threats as we slowly turned down another street. Maybe the military’s presence had forced the gangs to pull back. Right now, there appeared to be a temporary peace. But there was no telling when the violence might erupt again. “Why are there bounties on your heads?” Jessica broke the silence again. “Is it because your employer failed to exterminate you when they had a chance, so they’re letting others do the dirty work now?” Her question pulled my attention away from my surroundings for a moment. “Yeah. A lot of people want us dead. It’ll only be a matter of time before someone finds our hideout.” “My lips are sealed,” she promised. “They could torture me, and I’d never tell.” My lips twitched. That was good to know. Though I had no doubt she wouldn’t be able to withstand a single round of interrogations. She wasn’t cut out for that. It would break her in a heartbeat. She grew silent as we neared the part of the city where I needed to check out the lead. I brought the bike to a stop near an older apartment building in downtown Augusta. Not one person was about. Anywhere. Which made me wary. I glanced up at the building. Eight stories. Gunner’s penthouse was on the eighth floor. Gunner dealt in drugs, guns and sex. He was the leader of a powerful black gang called the Rapsters. His gang had overtaken the building and he now resided on the eighth floor. IHis I’d been told that Jessica’s sister had been seen in Gunner’s company three nights ago. Now that it was daylight, and Gunner was probably ed out from a night of drugs and who knew what else, it was time to pay him a visit. Jessica would probably be safer outside, but if I let her out of my sight, then I couldn’t protect her. So, she would have to come with me. We dismounted and I removed my helmet and hung it over the handlebars. Pulling the .38 from my boot, I released the safety. Jessica’s eyes widened. “You have a gun?” I cocked a brow. “Of course, I have a gun. And a knife. I don’t usually need

weapons other than my own body, but this is a dangerous place we’re entering. There’s bound to be armed men. I might need something other than myself to protect you.” She nodded and set her helmet on the back of the bike. “Stay close,” I ordered, then headed for the building. Jessica stuck to me like glue, following close at my heels. We went in the door and up the stairs. People sprawled out in various sleeping positions along the stairwell. Some huddled together beneath thin blankets, others ed out in groups, coming off a high from either drugs or alcohol or both. Others appeared to be transients just trying to find a place to sleep. Sizing them up and deeming them harmless, I continued up. Second floor. Third. Fourth. Jessica huffed and puffed behind me, obviously not having as much stamina as me. She fell behind, pausing to catch her breath. “Keep up,” I grumbled, turning back to her. She leaned against the stairwell and gasped in deep breaths. “How do you climb so fast with your injured leg?” As if my thigh needed to be reminded that it hurt, it suddenly started to throb. Damn. I ignored it and turned away. “The dregs are taught to ignore pain and move forward. Let’s go.” I went up the next flight with her trailing behind me. Just as I reached the landing, a vision flashed through my mind: a young girl with dark hair, sobbing

quietly in what looked like this same stairwell, while two men shoved her forward up the stairs. She was a slightly younger version of Jessica. Eliza. She’d been here. Finally, I’d caught a trace of her. Before I could focus more deeply on the vision, try to zero in on her location, a soft scream jerked me out, pulling me back to the present. I spun around. A scruffy-looking black man in faded denims and a dirty brown hoodie had Jessica pinned back against him with a knife against her throat. “Thought you could get away from me, bitch? Think again.” I narrowed my gaze, noting the wildness in the stranger’s eyes. He was high on something. Was he a gang member or just an opportunist? My gut told me the latter. Did he think Jessica was her sister, Eliza? Or was there something Jessica hadn’t told me?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jessica The man pressed the knife into my throat and I felt an instant sting. He’d cut me, the bastard. A tiny trickle of blood slid down my neck. My heart raced. Don’t panic. Don’t freak out. Hold still. I jerked my gaze to Tracker, who eyed us from the stairs above, a good six or seven feet away. His face was expressionless, giving no clue as to his thoughts. Would he save me? Or would he let the man drag me off to do nefarious things to me? If I’d been paying more attention while following Tracker instead of ogling his firm ass, then maybe I would have heard the man sneaking up behind me. “You know this guy?” Tracker asked, never taking his eyes off the stranger. I couldn’t speak or even move with the knife shoved roughly against my throat, so I just stared at Tracker, hoping he would get me away from the man before it was too late. My attacker dragged me backward two steps, away from Tracker. “She’s mine!” he shouted. “Back off!” Tracker quirked a brow. “Yours? Since when?” The stranger yanked me back another step. “She’s mine, I tell ya. I found her.” Tracker lifted the gun and pointed it at the man’s head. “No one has the right to own another person. Do you want to die today? If you don’t let her go, you’re going to die.” The man glanced nervously around the stairwell. Other people had been awakened by the commotion and were slowly rising and staring at us. He pressed the knife tighter against me. More blood dripped down my neck. I tried to hold as still as possible. One wrong move and he could end my life.

“If you shoot me, she’ll die, too. I’ll slice her throat.” “Maybe,” Tracker conceded. “But I’m not a regular guy. When I aim, I shoot to kill. You’ll be dead before your knife does any damage.” He paused, his gaze narrowing. “Do you know who I am?” The man swallowed hard behind me. “A big guy with a gun?” He let out a nervous laugh. Tracker’s gaze shifted around the stairwell, taking in our audience. “They call me The Tracker.” He spoke loudly and clearly so everyone could hear. “Ever heard of me?” The man went still behind me. The hand holding the knife shook slightly. He was scared. Good. “You’re a dreg,” someone behind me called out. A male voice. “I would let her go, Jermaine. This guy’s a dreg. A killer.” The man—Jermaine—swallowed hard behind me. “I don’t care who you are. She’s mine and I’m taking her with me.” He yanked me back another step, dragging me down the stairs. Tracker didn’t move. “Last chance.” His voice was cold and menacing. As I stared into his icy gray eyes, I believed wholeheartedly that he was a killer. “Close your eyes, Jess.” I did as he ordered, knowing what was coming. Then the shot rang out, a loud boom in the stairwell. I flinched. People screamed and scrambled away. Jermaine’s body tumbled backward, falling away from me. The knife dropped beside him with a clang. I opened my eyes, my gaze immediately locking on Tracker’s. I gulped in air and hurried up the stairs toward him. I didn’t look back, not wanting to see the man’s body on the bottom of the stairs behind me. I had no doubt Tracker had shot him in the head. Just inches away from me.

I trembled, my shock dissipating as the horror of what had just happened slammed into me. With a sob, I flung my arms around Tracker’s waist and held on tight. He’d saved me. He was a hero. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you.” He stiffened, then stepped back, forcing me away from him. “We’ll have to come back later. We’ve lost our element of surprise. And I just announced to the entire building who I am. Not the smartest thing I’ve done, but I had hoped it would scare him into letting you go. Greedy opportunists will be showing up. We have to go. Now.” His gaze swept the stairwell again, taking in all the staring faces. “You’ve all seen it with your own eyes,” he told our audience. “I am a killer. And if any of you talk about my being here, I’ll come back and kill you, too.” Then he went back down the stairs, ing everyone, his gaze cold, sizing them all up as he moved past. People stepped aside respectfully, some in fear, allowing him to , whispering amongst themselves. No one wanted him to kill them. But I doubted they’d stay quiet for long. As soon as we left, they would chatter about what had just happened. I raced after him, embarrassed that I’d hugged him. And hurt that he’d pushed me away so quickly, like he hadn’t wanted me to touch him. I hadn’t meant to hug him like that. It had been an instinctive reaction. He’d saved me, and I’d run to him, craving comfort from my savior. I kept my gaze averted as I ed Jermaine’s body, then followed Tracker outside to the motorcycle. “How’s your neck?” He gently tilted my head to the side and inspected the injury. “Just a slim cut. It’s already stopped bleeding. You’ll live.” That was good to know, though it still stung a little. Tracker slid his sunglasses on and started the engine. We donned our helmets. I settled behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Then we raced away. No one spoke for the first few minutes, then he asked gruffly, “Who was that guy? Did you know him?” I forced my shaking limbs to relax and answered. “No, I think he mistook me for Eliza. He must have been the one who kidnapped her.” Tracker grunted. “Next time, pay attention to your surroundings. The situation could have escalated out of my control. People were coming up the stairs. You

could have died.” Heat washed into my cheeks. Feeling chastised, I lifted my chin, overcome with the desire to defend myself. “Well, pardon me for staring so hard at your firm ass. I couldn’t help it if I was so distracted.” I watched in fascination as color crept up his neck into his face. Good, I’d embarrassed him. Take that! He cleared his throat. “Always pay attention to your surroundings. Don’t ever let anything distract you. It could mean the difference between life and death.” My own cheeks heated. He was right. I could have died. I probably would have if he hadn’t been there to save me. “I’m sorry. I really am serious about finding Eliza. I would do anything for her. She’s all I have.” He didn’t speak for a long moment, then he murmured, “Just be grateful you have someone.” My heart pinched as I thought of Tracker all alone, with no one except his dreg brothers, his entire life. “I got my first visual on your sister.” What? He had? Where? When? “Where is she?” I asked eagerly. “I didn’t see her anywhere.” A moment of silence ed while I sensed he was choosing his words carefully. “The reason I always ask for a photograph when I’m tracking someone is because I have the ability to lock onto an image and then locate that person through their image. The reason it has taken me so long to find Eliza is because you didn’t have a photo of her, so the only thing I could do so far was ask questions about her and try to use your image as a visual. But back in the stairwell of that building, I had a sudden vision of her being shoved up the stairs by two black men. Before I could focus in on it, I heard you scream, and then I lost that brief connection.”

My breath caught. Eliza had been there, in that stairwell? Where was she now? Was she okay? My heart squeezed. I sucked in a breath. Oh Eliza, I’m coming for you. I promise. Just hang in there. How did Tracker see her in a vision? “Are you psychic or something?” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what it is, exactly. But I guess it is some kind of psychic ability. Once I get a visual of my target, I can generally zero in on that person like a laser beam. I will usually get a flash of where that person is or recently was, which helps me to locate them. If I can’t locate them with a photo, then I can sometimes get a read on them by visiting a place they were at recently, which was probably why I had that brief vision of her back at that building. She’s been there. If we want to find Eliza, I’m going to have to go back to that building, back to that stairwell, and try to find her in a vision again.” Wow. That was…fascinating. He was fascinating. “That’s amazing,” I whispered, meaning it. Now I understood why he was the best tracker around. Hearing about his incredible ability made me like him that much more. Tracker was a special guy. Unique. We reached the military guard outside of the city and Tracker waved at the blond sergeant on duty, who let us without stopping us. Minutes later, we were back on the freeway heading west toward Eatonton and the underground maze in the forest. Neither of us spoke and we ed only minimal traffic on the way back. I couldn’t imagine very many people wanting to go into Augusta right now. About an hour later, Tracker slowed the bike and glanced back at me. “There’s a road block up ahead. It’s not military. I don’t like the looks of it. It could be bounty hunters or even one of the gangs. It looks like four guys with guns. Hold on tight and be prepared for anything. We may have to make a run for it.”

I swallowed hard and lifted my head, trying to see around him and what was up ahead. Tracker reached the road block and drew the bike to a halt in front of a group of mean-looking assholes with rifles pointed at us. They all wore navy blue bandannas around their heads and black leather jackets, which led me to believe they were of a gang. I tightened my arms around his waist, fearing what was about to happen. “Where you headed?” an ugly guy with a goatee asked as he chewed on a huge wad of gum. Tracker shrugged. “Down the road.” Another man with shaggy blond hair sniggered, lifting his rifle and pointing it into Tracker’s face. “We’re looking for a man called The Tracker. You seen him? We were told he was spotted in Augusta with a dark-haired woman a little over an hour ago and that they raced away on a motorcycle.” The man’s gaze shifted to me, eyeing my dark hair that stuck out underneath the helmet. He glanced back at Tracker. “Take off the helmet and those shades so we can see your face.” The other two men stepped forward, pointing their guns at us. Tracker’s entire body stiffened against me, his muscles hardening into stone. I tensed in response, fear clenching my gut. This was it, then. They were going to kill him. They were probably trying to collect on the bounty. And I’d have no one to help me find my sister. “You think I’m The Tracker?” Tracker’s words were cold, laced with steel. The men all exchanged glances, then the one with the goatee lifted a piece of paper. “It says here The Tracker is six-two with black hair and gray eyes.” Tracker snorted softly. “That could be hundreds of people.” Goatee Guy shook the paper at him. “The Tracker has a bounty on his head. A hundred grand to whoever brings him in alive. So, if I stop everyone who matches his description, I might get lucky.” He motioned to Tracker. “Take off the helmet and remove those shades or we’ll do it for you.” Still Tracker didn’t comply. Instead, he let out a long sigh and turned the

motorcycle off. Standing, he pushed the kickstand down and leaned the bike against the stand. The men all tensed and moved closer, shoving their guns in Tracker’s face, eyeing him warily. Not sure what I was supposed to do, I leaned away from Tracker, giving him room to do whatever it was he had planned. Tracker turned and wrapped an arm around my waist. He pulled me against him, then lifted his leg over the side, yanking me off the bike with him. Setting me next to him on the ground, he pushed me behind him. My legs trembled. I teetered backward, then righted myself. Though I longed to wrap my arms around his waist and lean into him so I could absorb some of his strength, I stayed where I was. Out of the way. Tracker was so big and hard and strong. A trained killer. I had no doubt he could defend himself. But my presence was an interference. I didn’t want to get in his way, hinder him, especially if bullets went flying. Wait a second. Goatee Guy had said there was a reward for bringing Tracker in alive. That meant The Company needed him for something, or they planned to kill Tracker themselves. Which meant these men wouldn’t get the reward if they killed him. So maybe, we could escape. Maybe, there would be no flying bullets. I stayed behind Tracker, letting his big body block the danger from me. The gunmen kept their weapons pointed at him, waiting. Tracker reached for his helmet. Slowly removed it. In a swift move, he swung the helmet at Goatee Guy. Goatee Guy let out a cry of alarm and lifted his gun. The helmet cracked into the side of his head. The gun went off before Tracker knocked it from the guy’s hand. The gun sailed through the air and crashed to the pavement. I stumbled back, letting out a soft scream, and dived for the ground behind their Jeep. Several more shots rang out.

Bullets shot past me, one slamming into the back tire of the vehicle. A hissing sound rent the air, and the tire slowly deflated. I curled into a ball on the ground, squeezing my eyes shut. Grunts and groans and thwacking sounds filled the air. I cautiously opened my eyes and peered around the now flat tire. Tracker moved like a tornado, spinning around as he attacked the men, flying in, then out, with an impressive display of kicks and punches and other body strikes that left me stunned. His face was a cold, determined mask as he fought off the four men. He was a machine. A beast. Unstoppable. I stared. Wow. He was good. I couldn’t tell by watching him that he had an injured leg. Then fear slithered in. It scared me, seeing him so lethal like this. He scared me. But I was so fascinated, my fear paled in comparison. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Goatee Guy grunted and lunged at Tracker again, blood oozing down his temple where Tracker had slammed the helmet into the side of his head. Tracker knocked him aside with a hard blow to the neck that left the guy gasping and clutching at his throat. Then I noticed the blood appearing on Tracker’s lower left side. And more blood oozing from his right hand. Crap. He’d been shot. At least once. I couldn’t tell if the blood on his hand was his or the blood of one of the men he’d battled with. But the injury on his lower abdomen was definitely from a gunshot. Tracker continued fighting as if the injuries didn’t even faze him. He kept swinging around with swift martial arts moves, an elbow to an ear, a hard punch to a face, a backward kick to a knee…until all the men lay on the ground, moaning. Tracker turned back to me, the sunglasses riding askew on his face. Lifting a bloody hand, he straightened the sunglasses, then bent to retrieve his dented

helmet from the ground. “Let’s go.” He reached a hand out to me. Still stunned, I stared up at him. At the blood on his hand. “You just…fought off four guys with guns. All by yourself.” His lips twitched. “They didn’t stand a chance.” I swallowed hard, slowly lifting my hand and placing it in his. “But, you’ve been shot.” He pulled me to my feet with a grimace. “Yeah. It hurts like a bitch. Get on the bike. Let’s get out of here before they recover or another band of opportunists shows up.” I glanced at the men lying on the ground, groaning and clutching their injuries. Why hadn’t Tracker killed them? They couldn’t come after us if they were dead. We mounted the bike and Tracker started the engine. He pulled his helmet back on and glanced back at me. “If we can get back to the underground hideout before I out, my buddy Nate will fix me up. He’s The Healer.” I nodded, swallowing hard. I had yet to meet Nate, The Healer. “And if you out before then?” He turned back around. “Then you’ll have to go for help. Or dig the bullet out yourself.” He paused. “Or let me die.” Nausea rolled in my stomach. He couldn’t die. I wouldn’t let him. I needed him to find Eliza. “Why can’t you call Nate on your cellphone and have him meet us somewhere?” Tracker sighed. “Because cellphones don’t work underground.” Oh. Of course. I hesitated. “Why didn’t you kill those men?” He flipped the kickstand up. “Because you’re here. You’ve seen enough violence

for one day.” He paused. “And I’ll never be good enough for you if I don’t stop killing.” What? He revved the engine. The bike lurched forward. I clung to him, my arms wrapped tightly around his waist, his blood seeping into my clothes. Had I just imagined that last sentence that had come out of his mouth? I’ll never be good enough for you if I don’t stop killing. Did he mean that? Did he really think he wasn’t good enough for me? Those men would come after him. I imagined others would as well. He had to know that. But he’d spared their lives simply to keep me from witnessing any more violence. Because he wanted to be good enough for me. Tracker might be cold and lethal in the face of danger. But he also had a caring, comionate side. He was human, just like me. My chest squeezed. My curiosity about him continued to grow. I’d been staying with him for a week now, and I was slowly learning things about him. He was secretive. He didn’t like to talk about himself. He liked to draw. He was a very talented artist. He was a damned good fighter. Even when injured. He could be kind. He’d protected me from those men. And he’d saved me from the man in the stairwell. And he was sinfully handsome. Hot as hell. Sexy as all get out. Okay, yes, I was falling for him. Who could blame me? He’d just fought off four guys with guns, all by himself! The more I learned about him, the more I liked him.

How could he think he wasn’t good enough for me when I wasn’t sure if plain old me was good enough for a hunky, manly man like him? You won’t get to worry about any of that if he es out from blood loss and dies on the side of the road. That sobered me. We had to make it back. I couldn’t let him die before I got to know the man he truly was.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tracker I was losing blood at a rapid rate. I could feel it sucking the life right out of me. If I didn’t pull over soon and take care of the wound, I would bleed to death. But we were still about ten miles outside of Eatonton. If I stopped, those men might catch up to us. And if they caught me, I was fucked. So I determinedly kept on, forcing myself to remain coherent, even though dizziness swirled in my head. Five more miles… Four… We were almost there. Three miles… Coldness swept through me, the loss of blood sucking the color out of my naturally olive-colored skin and turning my arms white. I wouldn’t remain conscious much longer. But I had to keep going as long as I could. Why did The Company want me alive? It was a puzzling question that I would have to take up with the other dregs. Maybe one of them would have an answer. If Jessica was anywhere near me when The Company caught me, they would torture her before killing her. I might be a heartless bastard, but I was growing attached to my slave and I wasn’t about to let her be hurt on my behalf. She was mine now. No one else was going to touch her. She was under my protection and I would do everything in my power to keep her safe. I had to get us back to the underground maze. I had to hold out just a little longer. Dizziness swam in my head again, my vision blurring. I shook my head hard, trying to clear it. But all that did was make things worse.

The bike weaved to the left, crossing the center line. I jerked it upright, trying valiantly to remain conscious. Thank God there were no cars approaching from the opposite direction. The bike weaved to the right, skidding along the side of the road. Jessica’s arms tightened around me. “Tracker? Stop the bike! You’re about to out.” “No. I got this.” I steadied the bike, blinking rapidly and trying to stay focused. Gravel crunched beneath the tires, flinging behind us. My vision blurred again. “Tracker!” I jerked my eyes open as the bike swerved hard to the left. I yanked it upright and pressed on the brake, trying to even it out. But my reflexes were too slow, and I lost control. Tires screeched. Gravel spewed everywhere as the bike slid off the side of the road, spinning out from underneath us. Jessica’s hands left my waist as she catapulted through the air. I slammed into the ground, gravel digging into my right arm and scraping my skin off as I bounced and slid before crashing into a milepost marker. I lay still for several moments, breathing slowly and trying to remain conscious. My right arm was scraped raw, having taken the brunt of the landing. I sat up gingerly and glanced down at my stomach. Blood continued to ooze out of the bullet wound, soaking my shirt and my jeans. My vision blurred. Nausea threatened. I swallowed hard, forcing it back. “Tracker!” I jerked my head up. Jessica rushed forward, leaning over me, her face filled with concern. The side of her helmet was dented and scraped, a streak of paint missing. She must have struck her head on the ground when we wrecked. She yanked the helmet off and tossed it aside.

“Tracker?” She gently lifted my arm. “Your arm is scraped raw. This is probably not the best time to tell you this, but I don’t do well with blood.” I snorted. “You’re all I’ve got, slave. Don’t out on me, or we’re both doomed.” Then I noticed her leg. “You’re hurt too,” I murmured. “Looks like some serious road rash.” She glanced down at her calf and winced. “Yeah, my leg got dragged across the gravel. But you’re hurt worse. Tell me what to do to help fix your gunshot wound. I’ll try my best to keep it together. You’re getting really pale, Tracker. I’m scared you’re going to die on me.” I closed my eyes as another wave of nausea washed over me. My head spun. I swallowed hard, fighting it all back. “How bad is my bike? She made a face. “Pretty bad. I don’t think it’s drivable. Here, let me help you take your helmet off.” I remained still as she pulled the helmet off my head and tossed it aside. Then she righted my sunglasses, slipping them gently back on my nose. I sighed. “Thanks. We need to find a place to hide in case those guys come after us.” She nodded, glancing around. “There’s a housing subdivision over there. Maybe we can find someone to help us.” I let out a soft grunt and struggled to my feet. “Not likely. I doubt anyone will help us. People no longer open their doors to strangers. It’s too dangerous. But it’s worth a try.” Jessica wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me forward. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” Leaning into Jessica, I let her steer me forward, willing my legs to cooperate. One step. Two. Three.

After several yards, my muscles started to cramp, and I leaned more heavily into her. She made a soft, distressed sound, and I knew my weight was too much for her, but I didn’t have enough strength to go forward on my own. My head continued to spin with dizziness. I struggled valiantly to stay awake. Amazingly, Jessica kept on, her sheer determination keeping me upright. She was one hell of a woman. My iration grew. If I survived this, I’d tell her how incredible she was. My eyes drifted shut, on and off, for several minutes, as I blindly struggled along beside her, allowing her to lead me forward. At last, she stopped and I glanced up. We had reached the subdivision. Thank God. Jessica headed to the nearest house and knocked on the door. I sagged against the porch railing, my breath turning shallow. I could feel myself slipping away. Would she be able to save me before it was too late? Jessica pounded louder on the door, but no one answered. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she helped me sit down on the porch steps. “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared around the side of the house, I assumed to search for an unlocked door or an open window or some other way to get in. My eyelids drooped. I fell back against the door. Gordon would be here soon. He would have sensed my injury by now. But would he arrive before it was too late? My heartbeat slowed. Thump…thump. Thump… Then my world turned black.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jessica I jog-walked toward Eatonton, pausing to catch my breath every few minutes, then hurrying on again as fast as my road-rashed leg would allow. I had climbed into the house through an unlocked window and opened the front door to find Tracker ed out on the porch. I’d tried to wake him, but he wouldn’t stir. I had no medical training, but I knew enough to check for a pulse. I placed my fingers against his neck, feeling up and down until I finally detected a faint pulse. He was still alive. Thank God. But how long did he have? Urgency swept through me. I tried to move him into the house, but he was too heavy. So, I was forced to tip him sideways off the porch, where he fell into the shrubs lining the front of the house. I tried to make him comfortable, then I pressed a towel I’d found in the house over his wound. Now I just had to find help before he died. Or before those thugs found him. Tracker had said his friend The Healer would help him. But first I had to get back to the underground maze to find The Healer. After jog-walking for several miles, I reached Eatonton. A few people were about, but I doubt anyone would help me. They were more likely to call the authorities and turn Tracker in than help him. I paused near the post office to catch my breath. Now I just had to make it through the forest to the mansion. Two cars drove past. Another pulled into the parking lot of the post office. I crossed the street and headed for the woods. A purple motorcycle suddenly came into view, heading down the road toward me. As the motorcycle drew closer, I recognized the big redheaded dreg, The Gardener. Relief swept through me. I rushed forward to intercept him as he drew the bike to a halt. “Where’s Tracker?” His gaze darted around, searching for his friend.

I swallowed hard. Turning, I pointed back down the road. “Back that way. He was shot. He ed out.” Tears swam in my eyes. “Please, we have to hurry. He said to find The Healer.” The Gardener nodded. He yanked a cellphone from his leather jacket and spoke into it. Then he focused his attention on me. “I sensed Tracker was hurt. It woke me from my dreams. Thank you for coming for help.” He paused, eyeing me closely. “My name’s Gordon by the way. We were never properly introduced.” I hesitated, then shook his huge hand. “How did you…sense Tracker was injured?” His phone rang. Gordon held up a hand while he answered it. “Yes. I found Jessica. She’s going to take us to Tracker. Hurry up.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and glanced back at me. “Each of the dregs is paired with another dreg when they are hired on with The Company. I guess you could say we bond with that person in a spiritual way. We share a physical and emotional connection that travels across whatever distance is separating us. It’s kind of hard to explain, but when Tracker is hurt, I can feel his pain to some extent. I can sense when he is injured, and he can feel the same when I’m experiencing physical or emotional pain. All the dregs are connected like that, but each pair is more closely bonded than the rest of the group.” Wow. That was fascinating. I took his words in, trying to digest what he was saying. “So, all the dregs know when one of their own is hurt?” He nodded. “But only I sensed it, because I’m his partner. I notified the others. Eventually, my connection to Tracker will lead me to him. But you may have saved us hours of searching for him. The weaker he gets, the harder it is for me to locate him. You might actually save his life. Some of the other dregs are on their way. They weren’t that far behind me. As soon as they get here, you can take us to Tracker.” They were coming. They would save Tracker. Thank God. I collapsed onto the ground, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the past few hours. Emotion clogged my throat. Tears threatened to fall. I blinked rapidly, drawing in a ragged breath. Then the tears streamed down my cheeks in a rush of emotion. How badly was Tracker hurt? Would he die? Would the other dregs get to him in time? I swallowed hard, trying to get myself under control. They were

venturing out in broad daylight, risking their lives for one of their own. Any one of the people in Eatonton might recognize one of the dregs and call the authorities. And then it would be all over. And I would never find Eliza. My leg throbbed, reminding me of the serious road rash on my calf. I was afraid to look at it to see how damaged it was, so I just ignored it. Saving Tracker was more important than my leg right now. Gordon shut his bike off and pushed the kickstand down. He dismounted and came toward me, not appearing hindered at all by his prosthetic leg. Taking pity on me, he knelt, his big body blocking the sun as he inspected my calf. “That looks pretty painful. We’ll have Nate take a look at it after he fixes Tracker up.” There was sympathy in his eyes as he stared down at me. “You’re going to be okay and so is Tracker. Got it?” My first impression of this man—cold, hard, mean—faded in that moment. He was human too, just like Tracker. I decided I liked him, even if he was a little scary. I sniffled. “Yes. I’ll be fine. I’m just a little…overwhelmed. I’m afraid Tracker might die. Can’t they hurry?” He gently patted my shoulder. “They’re on their way. Tracker’s tough. He’s a dreg, ? If he’s lost a lot of blood, we can give him a blood transfusion.” A blood transfusion? Seriously? What the hell were these guys? Physical, emotional and spiritual connections? Sensing pain? Sharing blood? The sound of an approaching vehicle had us both glancing up. The black Escalade I’d seen in the mansion’s garage earlier approached, stopping next to Gordon’s motorcycle. The window on the driver’s side rolled down and a darkhaired man wearing sunglasses glanced over at us. “Where’s Tracker?” Gordon rose. “Down the road a ways. The lady will take us to him.” He held a hand out to me. I placed my hand in his giant grip and he hauled me to my feet.

The man in the Escalade smiled, flashing brilliant white teeth. Except it was more like a grimace than a smile. He was as large and intimidating as the rest of the dregs I’d met so far. And probably just as dangerous. “Jessica, meet Nate. He’s The Healer.” Gordon walked to his bike. Nate nodded at me, his gaze hidden behind the dark sunglasses. “Ma’am.” I nodded back. “Nice to meet you.” Nate talked like me. He was a Southerner. Perhaps even a Georgian like me. The other dregs I’d met—Ryan and Luke— both had Midwestern accents. Gordon had said each dreg had a buddy, someone he was closely connected to. I would bet that Ryan and Luke were partners. I’d only caught a glimpse of one other dreg—The Smuggler—that first night, and if I ed correctly, he’d had a faint Hispanic accent. As if Spanish had been his first language, but he’d spoken English most of his life. He’d been wearing a hoodie, had spoken only briefly, and had vanished back into his apartment almost as quickly as he’d appeared. Was he Nate’s partner? How many other dregs were there? I had a feeling I would find out very soon. “Come on, Jessica. You can ride with me.” Gordon motioned me toward his bike. I climbed on the Harley behind Gordon and moments later, we raced away. Several minutes later, we reached the housing subdivision where I’d left Tracker. He was still lying underneath the shrubs in front of the house where I’d hidden him. Gordon bent and checked Tracker for a pulse while I stood aside helplessly, wishing I could do something to help. Nate exited the Escalade with a black bag that I assumed contained medical supplies. He knelt next to Gordon. The enger door of the Escalade flew open. I stared as a large, dark man emerged. If I thought Tracker was dark…well, this man took “dark” to the extreme. Everything about him was dark—his hair, his skin, his eyes, his clothes. Even his aura was dark. He looked to be Mexican or Latino or some other South American nationality. His black gaze flickered over me, almost contemptuously, before dismissing me. I had to stumble out of the way as he strode past me to where Nate and Gordon were leaning over Tracker. The man’s coldness and his contempt offended me. Who was he? What had I ever done to him? The two back doors of the SUV opened and two more men emerged from the

vehicle. The tinted windows obscured the inside of the Escalade and I hadn’t realized Nate had brought any engers with him. I stood on the grass as the other two men approached. Both were large and muscular like the other dregs. One had light brown hair, the other blond. Even though both men were very good looking, I didn’t even feel a hint of attraction for either of them. Because you’re falling for Tracker. The thought sobered me. It was true. I was falling for him. And he might die. The men nodded at me, but didn’t say anything as they swept past. I had never met any of the newcomers. It was possible one of them was The Smuggler—the dark one?—but I hadn’t gotten a good look at that man’s face the first night, so I wasn’t sure. A lady from a house across the street peered out at us through the blinds of her front window. When my gaze caught hers, she quickly shut the blinds. Was she calling the cops right now? Or would she pretend she didn’t see us and stay hidden in her house? Should I mention the lady to the dregs? Would they even care? I hesitated, then approached the masculine huddle around Tracker. I paused just outside of the group. Being surrounded by so much testosterone made me uncomfortable. Made me feel extremely small. Helpless. And very female. They moved forward as a group, ignoring me, and bent to scoop Tracker up and carry him into the house. I followed hesitantly behind them, not sure what to do. “As soon as I assess his condition and make sure he’s stable, we can get him out of here. There’s no telling how long before someone comes home.” Nate glanced at me. “I need you to be the lookout, Jessica. Let us know if anyone shows up.” I nodded and stepped aside as the men carried Tracker down a short hallway and deposited him on a bed in the first bedroom they came across. I followed them, not wanting to miss what was going on, and moved over to the bedroom window that looked out into the front yard. I peered out the window. No one was out there. I glanced at the house across the street, but the lady had not reappeared. I looked back at the bed where the men were stripping Tracker and assessing his injuries.

“Um, I don’t know if this is important or not, but a lady from the house across the street saw us drive in. She closed her blinds when I looked at her.” Gordon nodded. “We’ll be in and out as quickly as we can.” I glanced back at Tracker. Blood soaked his torso, making it impossible to tell from where I stood just how badly injured he was. The sight of all that blood made me queasy. His naturally dark skin was pale. How much blood had he lost? Could Nate save him? Nate removed some type of antiseptic wipe from the bag and began cleaning the area around Tracker’s bullet wound. I fought back my nausea as Nate lifted some type of tweezer things and probed inside Tracker’s stomach, searching for the bullet. “Look away, Jessica. Can’t have you puking all over the place.” I glanced at Gordon, who’d spoken. Surprisingly, there was sympathy in his gaze, not contempt. I looked at the others, but the only one who looked back at me was the scary dark Hispanic man, and his gaze was definitely filled with contempt. What the hell was his problem? I glanced back out the window. Several minutes ed. “Got it.” I turned back in time to see Nate lifting a chunk of metal from Tracker’s stomach. Thank God. Relief gushed through me. Did this mean he would live? “He’s going to need a transfusion.” Nate glanced at Gordon. Gordon nodded. “No problem.” He leaned against the wall and held his arm out to Nate. A sound from the yard out front had me glancing outside again. The greedy opportunists who’d shot Tracker were on the street out front, their Jeep slowly

patrolling the road. They must have changed out the flat tire. I snuck a glance at the house across the street, but the blinds were still drawn. Had the neighbor decided to mind her own business? I jerked back to the roomful of powerful men. “Um, the guys who shot Tracker are out there.” Five pairs of eyes turned toward me. Nate waved at the others. “You guys handle it. Be quick about it. We don’t need an audience if we can help it. Gordon and I will take care of Tracker.” The three men left the room without a word. “Jessica, come over here. I need your help.” Nate waved me over. More than happy to be away from the window and out of sight of whatever was about to happen outside, I scurried toward the bed. Nate laid his hand over Tracker’s bullet wound and a current seemed to through him and into Tracker. Then a faint burnt-skin-smell floated up from Tracker as Nate removed his hand. I stared at Tracker’s wound in shock. Nate had somehow cauterized the wound with his hand. What the hell? Nate placed a large dressing over Tracker’s wound and laid my hand against it. “Press down tightly. I cauterized it, but it’s still fresh and we have to hurry. I’m about to put more blood in his body from Gordon, and we don’t want it to start bleeding again.” I swallowed hard, forcing back the nausea. You can do this, Jess. Be brave. Nate patted my knee. “You okay?” I lifted my gaze to his. He had slipped his sunglasses up onto his head, revealing eyes that were a striking light green with gray undertones. I nodded. “Yeah. I think so. How did you…do that?”

Gordon chuckled from where he leaned against the wall several feet away. “Nate can heal things. But nothing major like cancer or broken bones. He can seal up a wound, or cauterize one closed, but his ability doesn’t allow him to go internally to heal deep injuries. He can also make the pain go away. We don’t need pain meds with Nate around. He’s a lifesaver when one of us is injured.” I nodded slowly, my eyes wide. That was awesome. “Do all the dregs have supernatural abilities?” Gordon nodded. I averted my gaze as Nate found a vein in Gordon’s arm and stuck a needle in it. “What’s yours?” I asked Gordon, glancing back at him. “I make things grow.” The Gardener. Of course. The name was fitting. Did the name refer to plants or did it refer to other things as well? These guys were special. Truly unique. All of them. What were the others dregs’ talents? Muffled sounds from outside the window indicated the dregs had encountered the thugs. I tuned them out and stared down at my hand over Tracker’s wound. I let my gaze slide up his naked, bloody torso, then over to his arm. I hesitated, then lifted my other hand and grasped Tracker’s hand, gently squeezing it in mine. His hand was cold. Lifeless. I willed my heat to flow into him. To give him life. To help him heal. I glanced up in time to see Nate and Gordon exchanging a glance. I didn’t care what they thought about me holding Tracker’s hand. Gordon cleared his throat. “So, tell us what happened, Jessica. How did Tracker get shot?” I took a deep breath, slowly exhaled. Then I told them about going to Augusta to follow the lead Tracker had, getting taken hostage by that black man, Jermaine, then Tracker shooting him, people screaming, Tracker announcing who he was so everyone would leave us alone. Then fleeing. Running into the road block. Tracker fighting them all off and getting shot.

Gordon scrunched his brow and glanced at Nate. “Doesn’t sound like Tracker. He notices every single detail about everything. No one ever gets the best of him.” Assuming he was referring to Jermaine capturing me, I itted, “It was my fault. Tracker was in front of me. I wasn’t paying attention.” Because I was too busy ogling Tracker’s ass. Nate nodded. “What I want to know is why Tracker didn’t kill those bastards who shot him.” “I asked him the same thing,” I itted quietly. “He said I’d seen enough violence for one day.” And that if he ever wanted to be good enough for me, then he had to stop killing. Gordon and Nate exchanged another glance. “Shit, Tracker’s getting soft.” Gordon eyed me knowingly. Heat scalded my cheeks. Gordon’s lips twitched. “Are you falling for him, girl?” My face grew hotter. I lowered my gaze, not saying anything. Nate snorted. “Be careful, Jessica,” Gordon warned softly. “You know once he finds your sister, he’ll walk away and never look back.” “Tracker’s a good man,” I said defensively, though Gordon spoke the truth. I meant nothing to Tracker. Right? I wasn’t even sure why he was helping me. But I believed he had good in him. Nate shook his head and turned away. He cleaned up Tracker’s arm where Tracker had severe road rash. Then he pressed his hand against the wound and while I stared, a scab slowly appeared over the cuts. Wow. That was incredible. Gordon huffed. “None of us are good men, Jessica. We’ve done bad things. Terrible things.” I lifted my gaze to Gordon’s in challenge. “Everyone does things they’re ashamed of. That doesn’t make them bad. And just because you’ve done bad things in the past doesn’t mean you can’t do good things now.”

Gordon’s fuzzy red brow shot up. “Are you sleeping with him?” More heat crept into my cheeks. I shook my head. “No. He’s been…a perfect gentleman.” Nate snorted with soft laughter and glanced at Gordon. “I told you, man, I think he’s gay.” Gordon rolled his eyes. “No. Tracker’s not gay. He’s just…particular.” What did that mean? Did Tracker think I was ugly? If he wasn’t attracted to me, then why had he drawn me naked? “He drew me,” I blurted, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince them or myself that Tracker found me attractive enough to want to draw me. Gordon smirked. “Nude?” My face grew hot all over again. I nodded and lowered my gaze. Nate chuckled. “Okay, you’ve convinced me he’s not gay. But why the hell isn’t he fucking you? Is he crazy?” My face was so hot it burned. “Because I…” I trailed off. “Didn’t want him to.” Gordon guffawed. “Sounds like our boy has a conscience. That makes him a better person than the rest of us.” He eyed me for a long moment, making my discomfort grow. “You’re changing him, Jessica, and I’m not sure if I like that.” His gaze hardened. Nate grunted in obvious agreement. “Come here, Jessica.” He patted the edge of the bed. “Let me see your leg.” I obeyed, sitting near Tracker’s feet while Nate cleaned the road rash on my calf. I hissed out at the stinging pain as he wiped it with alcohol, then pressed his palm against my stinging flesh. Almost instantly, the pain went away. He removed his hand and I stared down at my leg. It had scabbed over like Tracker’s arm. “Wow,” I whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. You’re amazing. Thanks.”

Nate chuckled. “Anytime.” The other three dregs chose that moment to come back into the room. Nate turned back to Tracker, checking the IV line that linked him to Gordon, sharing Gordon’s blood. “We took care of the situation,” the blond guy said. He glanced at me. “I’m Logan, by the way. They call me The Trainer.” I nodded at him. Something about his speech was slightly off, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. “I’m Jessica. Nice to meet you.” The guy with light brown hair smacked Logan in the arm. “He’s partially deaf. You have to speak up around him. Bomb went off near his head. Blew off his ear and half his face. Thank God for plastic surgery.” He chortled, then stuck his hand out to me. “I’m Noah. I’m the Hacker.” Dear God. A bomb had gone off near Logan’s head? He was probably lucky to be alive. And the plastic surgeon had done a good job on his face, as I could only see a small scar near his jawline and another one near his hairline. His hair was longish, hiding his missing ear. I let go of Tracker’s hand long enough to shake Noah’s hand. “Hi. And why were you discharged?” Noah pointed at his right eye. “Bullet went through my eye. It’s a major handicap for a soldier.” I nodded. I could see that. A prosthetic eye replaced what once apparently had been his real eye. Blindness in one eye would make him extremely vulnerable. The other man, the dark guy, eyed me without introducing himself. He glanced down at my hand over Tracker’s and made a sound of disgust. I couldn’t take his rudeness anymore. Lifting my gaze to his, I glared. “And what’s your name? Satan?” The other dregs snickered and glanced at the dark guy to gauge his response.

The Hispanic man’s gaze narrowed on me. He said something in rapid Spanish, then turned from the room. Gordon whistled softly. “Damn, girl, you’re really stirring shit up, aren’t you? Don’t worry about him. He’s just an ornery bastard. His name’s Antonio, but he goes by Tony. He’s the Smuggler.” So that guy was The Smuggler? I didn’t like him. Not even a little bit. He was a jerk. “Why was he discharged?” I asked. “Pure evilness?” The other dregs exchanged glances before Gordon murmured, “Something like that.” Nate clamped the tube that flowed blood from Gordon into Tracker. “I think Tracker’s stable enough to move him now. Let’s get out of here.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Jessica Nate told me there was nothing I could do while Tracker’s body healed. He said that even though he’d healed the outer part of the wound with his hand, it still might be a day or two before Tracker woke, because the bullet had done some internal damage and Tracker’s body would need time to heal. I stayed by Tracker’s side, monitoring his condition for that entire first night. Nate came to check on Tracker every few hours. He told me to get some rest, that Tracker wasn’t going to die. I didn’t want to leave Tracker alone, so instead of going to my cot, I cuddled up next to Tracker in the bed. It was a little out of character for me to be so brazen with a man, but I cared about him and wanted to be close in case he needed me. I dreamt of a different life, a different world. Of happiness. A life with Tracker. Just the two of us. We were happy in the dream, in love, constantly touching, unable to get enough of each other. I’d never known that kind of happiness, and when I woke, the dream still fresh in my mind, I longed for that happiness someday. With Tracker. Was I a fool? I wanted to know him better. I wanted to know everything about him, good or bad. Gordon came to check on Tracker early the next day. He sat on the edge of the bed and eyed me intensely. “How’s he doing this morning?” I sat up, nervously lowering my gaze. I sensed this was more than just a friendly check up on Tracker. “The same. He hasn’t woken yet. But Nate said it might be a few days before he does.” Gordon nodded, glancing at Tracker briefly, then resting his gaze on me again. I looked away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “You worry me, Jessica. Tracker hasn’t been himself since you showed up. He’s not one to invite women to stay over. Yet he’s letting you stay here. Why is that?”

“I’m cleaning and cooking for him.” I glanced up into Gordon’s eyes. “We have an arrangement.” He let out a soft snort. “It’s more than that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He wants you. Yet he won’t touch you. Why?” I swallowed hard. Good question. “I…he’s waiting for me to make the first move, I think.” My face burning, I glanced down at Tracker. Even in sleep, there was a harshness to his features. This man had suffered so much and yet I didn’t even know the half of what he’d gone through. Maybe Gordon would share some of Tracker’s story with me. Gordon sighed. “Tracker’s kind of particular when it comes to women. He doesn’t screw around like the rest of us. He’s had plenty of chances to bring whores home, but he never does.” He paused a moment, lost in thought, his gaze on Tracker’s face. “Even after all the hell he’s been through, he’s still got decency in him. Oh, he’s always had a soft spot for women. While the rest of us will happily fuck any willing woman, Tracker keeps them at a distance.” Silence stretched for a moment. I didn’t speak, just waited for Gordon to continue. Finally, he lifted his gaze to mine again. “Tracker’s my best friend, you know. I’m the only one who knows his real name. He won’t tell the others. Though he doesn’t his life before he was recruited with The Company, he keeps his real name, his reminder of a different life, separate from this life. He refuses to link the two in any way. I’m not even sure if he still re his real name.” I stared into Gordon’s eyes, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Can you tell me his real name?” Gordon shook his head. “That’s not for me to share. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. For fourteen years, Tracker and I had only each other, stuck in that hell. We share a strong bond, a deep connection, as dreg brothers. But now you’re stealing him away from me, and I don’t like it.” He sighed again. “When we escaped last year, we had to adjust to the harsh reality of the real world, a world we’d never experienced before. As soldiers, we weren’t allowed to think for ourselves. Years of conditioning and brainwashing, mixed with who-knowswhat-kind of drugs, turned us into obedient zombies. We did whatever we were told, without question, then returned to the facility to be locked back in our cage.

Tracker was the one who orchestrated our escape. Did he tell you that?” “Yes, he told me a little about it.” I was fascinated by the story and eager to hear more. Gordon nodded. “I think he always harbored a secret desire to escape, to be free of The Company. I know I did. But to act on that desire meant certain death, so I never voiced those thoughts aloud. Tracker was the one who urged us all to fight for our freedom. By some miracle, we escaped that day.” His eyes glazed over as he grew lost in thought once again. I waited patiently, wanting to hear more. But he just sat there, staring off into space, lost in his memories. Finally, I reached over and squeezed Gordon’s hand, reminding him I was still here. He gave a small start and jerked his gaze to mine. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, now here we are, surviving underground, hiding out like criminals. We’ll never have a normal life. We can never be normal. They will continue to hunt us all until we’re dead. They’ll find us eventually. They’ll kill every one of us. It’s no life for a woman, hiding out, living on the run. And Tracker knows that. If you’re smart, Jessica, you won’t fall for him. He can’t love you. He won’t let himself, because he knows he has nothing to offer you. Nothing but pain.” I lowered my gaze, my heart pinching at his words. Tears welled in my eyes at the unfairness of their situation. Whatever they’d done in the past, the dregs didn’t deserve this. They deserved to be happy just like everyone else. “I like you, Jessica. You’re a good girl. I honestly think you would be good for Tracker if his life had been different. But the smart thing for you to do would be to leave before you get any closer. It will be better for both of you if you don’t become too attached.” I considered his words for a moment. He might speak the truth, and it was obvious he cared for Tracker. But if Tracker had a chance for happiness, even if it was just for a short time, I wasn’t about to deny him that. I liked Tracker. And the more I knew about him, the more I liked him. I could easily grow to love him in time. “I’m not sure what, if anything, will happen between us.” I held Gordon’s gaze. “But I’m not going to abandon him. He’s injured. He needs me right now. And I need him to get well so he can help me find my sister. If our relationship evolves into something…more,” I broke off, my face heating, “well, then, I guess we’ll

just see what happens.” Gordon quirked a brow. Then he chuckled. “You’re definitely not a pushover. I like that about you.” He paused, studying me in silence. “You know, I came here to warn you away.” He rubbed a hand roughly over his face. “But now, I’m rethinking that decision. You might have what it takes to help him heal. So instead of warning you off, I’m going to give you some advice. If you’re going to get close to him, then stick around for the long haul. Don’t abandon him when times get tough. Because I guarantee if he lets you in, you’ll be the first. And if you hurt him…” he trailed off. “I won’t like that one bit. It affects me. And I sure as hell can’t deal with any more of his pain. I’ve got my own to deal with.” I squeezed Gordon’s hand again. He was a good man. He was just looking out for Tracker. And he’d obviously suffered plenty of his own heartache. “Have you ever been in love?” I asked gently. He flushed, his gaze darting away. “Yeah. Long ago. Her name was Ellen.” “So, you your past?” “Some of it. I started ing things a few months ago. Some of the other dregs said they are regaining some of their memories now, too. Tracker should be having flashbacks soon, if he hasn’t already.” He paused. “I was sixteen. Young, I know. But God, I loved that girl.” He cleared his throat. “But she’s gone now. Gone forever.” There was so much sadness in his words that my heart hitched. “I’m sorry.” I patted his hand. “I’ll bet she was beautiful.” He jerked his gaze back to mine and smiled. He nodded. “She was.” Silence stretched. Then I whispered, “I’m not going to hurt Tracker. It’s more likely he will hurt me. I care about him a lot.” His lips twitched. “I can see that. You get all googly eyed whenever you look at him. I think you could help him be free of his demons. But it won’t be easy. You’ll have to take the good with the bad, and there’s plenty of bad. You’ll have to accept him for who he is and not run away when things get rough. It will take a strong woman to love a man like him, to deal with his issues.” He patted my

hand, his gaze turning serious. “Don’t be fooled by his aloofness. Tracker does have feelings, even if he chooses to deny it. He’s not invincible. You could hurt him, Jessica. All too easily.” You could hurt him, Jessica. All too easily. I thought about Gordon’s words long after he’d gone. Was I a fool to care about Tracker? If we grew closer, would we only bring each other pain? Was it possible Tracker might actually care for me as much as I was starting to care for him? It gave me something to think about. If I was smart, I wouldn’t let myself get any closer to Tracker. If I was smart, I’d leave sooner rather than later. But right now, I wasn’t smart. I was emotionally attached to Tracker. I didn’t want to leave him. And I had to find Eliza. So, I wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tracker Dreams flowed into me, different than before. There was still blood and violence, death, but now something was different. Now my dreams contained a girl. A dark-haired girl with gorgeous hazel eyes that made my heart pound and awareness crackle through me whenever she was near. She had a soft voice with a southern drawl. She was slender, small-boned, perfectly feminine. She was purity and innocence. Everything good, while I was evil. She was light to my darkness. Unblemished perfection to my damaged soul. Who was she? Where had she come from? Why couldn’t I get her out of my head? “Tracker?” I blinked, the soft, feminine voice pulling me from my dream. Opening my eyes, I stared up into the face of the girl in my dreams. And then the memories crashed into me. Jessica. My slave. She’d come begging for my help to find her sister. She’d had no money, so I’d made her my slave. We’d gone out to follow a lead. A roadblock had stopped us on the way back. I’d been shot. I’d ed out. What had happened after that? Was she real? Or a figment of my imagination? I reached up, cupping her face in my palm. So soft. I pulled her face down to mine and kissed her. Lips against lips. I gently brushed my mouth over hers, the simple touch sparking a flame deep inside me. It was more than just lust. The kiss was as much a need to connect, to bond with her as it was a desire for her. And that was completely new to me. I’d never had this urge to bond with a woman before.

She gasped softly and drew back. “T-Tracker? Are you all right?” Oh yes, she was real. And she was still here. Mine. A deep chuckle from behind her had me jerking my gaze to the hulking man who approached the bed. Gordon. “Good to have you back, man.” He grinned. He grabbed my hand and pumped it in a rough shake that made me groan. Gordon didn’t do anything gentle. “Easy man,” I mumbled. “I’m still sore.” He chuckled. “Pussy.” Jessica moved back out of the way to stand near the foot of the bed. Then Nate was there, leaning over me. “Had to give you a blood transfusion. You can thank Gordon for that. He donated enough blood to keep you from dying on us. But Jessica’s the true hero. She was the one who brought us to you. She saved your life.” There was grudging respect in Nate’s words. I glanced behind Nate to where Jessica hovered, her cheeks pink. She’d saved me? Unexpected emotion clogged my throat. No one had ever cared enough to save me before. No one except my dreg brothers. I caught her gaze with mine and held it, a silent thank you. She blushed and looked away. Nate cleared his throat. “Welcome back to the land of the living. Let me check your vitals, then I’ll leave you alone.” Everyone grew silent as Nate removed a blood pressure cuff, stethoscope, and thermometer. I endured his probing while he checked my heart rate, blood pressure, and body temperature. Nate returned everything to his medical bag and stepped away from the bed. “All’s good.” “Thanks,” I murmured.

Jessica grabbed Nate’s hand as he moved past her. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded. Moments later the apartment door closed behind him. Gordon wrapped a thick arm around Jessica’s slender shoulders and dragged her against his side. She didn’t protest, but her eyes widened, her gaze jerking to mine. “This here is one fine woman.” Gordon’s gaze was as serious as I’d ever seen it. “You’re one lucky son-of-a-bitch. We’re all jealous, even Tony, though I doubt he’d ever it it. If you’re smart, you won’t let her go.” He planted a loud kiss on her cheek, then released her and headed for the door. “All that blood I gave you has made me lightheaded these past few days. Now that you’re well, I can finally get some real sleep.” “Bye Gordon,” Jessica called, blushing. “And thank you.” Something had happened while I’d been unconscious. Jessica and Gordon had bonded in some way. I didn’t like him being so friendly with her. I didn’t like his lips on any part of her. He turned and winked at her, then the door slammed behind him. And I was alone with my slave. She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. Her gaze darted to mine. “Um, can I get you anything?” I tried to sit up, but the pain in my lower abdomen forced me to lie back down. “Water.” She disappeared and returned a few moments later with a glass of water. She held it to my lips while I drank. I leaned back and closed my eyes. “You and Gordon are buddies now?” The mattress dipped slightly as she sat next to me on the bed, grabbing my hand in hers. I jerked in surprise, my eyes flying open. Touching others—and being touched by others—with tenderness wasn’t something I was used to. My memory before my recruitment with The Company was still a blank. They’d wiped my mind like cleaning off a flash drive, leaving it an empty black void. If I thought back as far as my earliest childhood memory, I could recall only waking in that jail cell with Gordon. No gentle touching. Ever. I couldn’t even

my mother, or if I had a mother. The only type of touch I knew was brutal. Violent. Painful. I didn’t know the meaning of tenderness. She shrugged. “I guess. We talked a bit. He cares about you. He’s a good guy.” That was true. Gordon was a good guy. My jealousy dissipated. If Jessica had won Gordon’s approval, then that was saying something. Gordon didn’t like very many people. “What did you two talk about?” She hesitated, her gaze locking on mine. “You, mostly.” “Me?” I lowered my gaze. Damn Gordon and his big mouth. He had no business telling Jessica anything about me. She nodded. “But also about him, just a little. He was in love once. Did you know that? Her name was Ellen.” No, I hadn’t known that. Gordon had told me he’d had several flashbacks, memories of his time before his recruitment with The Company, but he’d never mentioned a woman. “No.” It seemed Jessica was winning my best friend’s trust. Gordon was a good judge of character. If he trusted her, I should probably learn to trust her as well. I stared down at my hand in hers, deciding I liked her soft touch. Her gentleness. For the first time in my life, I wanted to know what gentleness was like. I wanted Jessica to teach me how to be gentle. What the hell? I continued to stare at our hands, unspeaking. She was messing with my mind. Making me weak. I needed to get rid of her. But I couldn’t do that until I’d found her sister. It might already be too late for that. By the time I healed and was ready to track her again, the trail would probably be cold. I might not be able to pick up another vision from that building. I needed to remove Jessica from my presence before she destroyed me. Maybe I could lie to her. Say I’d found her sister’s body. Then she’d have no reason to stick around and I could be rid of her.

The thought of her leaving filled my already cold heart with ice. “I met some of the other dregs.” Her soft voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I like all of them. Except for Tony. He’s a jerk.” I snorted out a laugh. “That’s just the way he is. He doesn’t like women. Don’t let it get to you.” She nodded. The silence stretched. “Will you tell me your real name now?” Out of nowhere, a fleeting memory flashed through my mind—a dark-haired woman with blue eyes pulling a shirt over my head, slipping my small arms through the sleeves, then gently tucking the shirt into my pants. “There you go, Liam, my handsome little boy. All ready for your first day of school.” She kissed my cheek and the scent of her flowery perfume filled my nostrils. I blinked and the memory faded away, yet the scent of her perfume lingered, as if she’d just left my room moments ago. Stunned, I lay there, staring at nothing, trying to chase the memory and bring it back. But it had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Like dust in the wind. It was the first memory of my time before my recruitment. Who was she? My mother? Why had the memory suddenly come back now when I hadn’t been able to anything before? Had Jessica’s presence, her gentleness, prompted the memory to leak free? Or were the memory suppressing drugs that had been pumped into my system for years finally beginning to wear off? Something tightened in my chest. What had happened to my mother? How had I ended up being snatched by The Company? Had they killed her? Stolen me from her? Had she handed me over to them? Was it truly the drugs wearing off that had triggered that memory? Or was it Jessica pulling the truth out of the deep recesses of my screwed-up mind? It had been nearly a year since I’d been discharged from my employment and we had narrowly escaped with our lives. Would more memories return? It’s not the drugs. It’s Jessica. It has to be.

I didn’t want to believe that. Because it would mean she was getting to me far more than I was willing to it. “Tracker?” I stared into Jessica’s gorgeous eyes and found myself caving. “Liam,” I itted at last. I had no idea what my last name was, or if I even had a last name. The only memory I’d been able to retain all these years, the only one I’d desperately clung to was my first name. Her eyes widened. “Liam?” she repeated softly. “That’s…nice.” I grunted. “I don’t like to be called that. My name is Tracker now.” Her eyes widened. “Why not? What’s wrong with Liam? It’s a beautiful name.” I pulled my hand from her grasp, uncomfortable that I’d revealed something about myself that no one else except Gordon knew. I’d never told the other dregs my real name. They’d all only known me as “Tracker”. I hadn’t been “Liam” for fifteen years. “Because I’m not that boy anymore. I’m Tracker.” She studied me a moment in silence. “What boy?” she persisted. “Did you something of your past? If you can a boy named Liam, a boy that’s not you anymore, then you must have some memories, right?” “Drop it,” I said coldly. “And don’t call me ‘Liam’.” She flushed and lowered her gaze. Several moments ed. She cleared her throat. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat.” I pushed myself up against the headboard, ignoring the pain in my stomach. “Yes. But first, I gotta pee.” She was by my side in an instant. “Let me help you.” I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t get up on my own. When I tossed the covers aside, I noticed my stomach was covered in a large dressing. I was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered me. But my

near-nakedness made me feel vulnerable in light of my present weakness. I groaned softly as she helped me up from the bed and led me to the bathroom. I had to lean heavily on her the entire way, but she didn’t complain. She turned her back as I relieved myself, then helped me back to the bed without saying a word. Humiliated by my weakness, I kept my gaze lowered, not wanting to see the expression on her face. Not wanting her pity. “I’ll bring you something to eat now.” She tucked the covers around my waist, careful to avoid my wound. “That sound good?” I nodded, forcing myself to meet her eyes. She smiled. “I’ll take care of you, Tracker. It’s the least I can do.” I watched her walk away, my gaze drawn to the gentle sway of her hips. God help me, I wanted her. Not just her body. I wanted to know everything about her. She was beautiful, inside and out. She was special. She knew more about me than any other woman ever had. I’d had a real conversation with her, several times now, and that was more than I could say about any other woman I’d known. And I sensed she truly cared about me, though I couldn’t comprehend why. I had no doubt she wanted to “fix” me and quite frankly, I wanted to let her try. If she could take away the nightmares, if she could soothe my battered soul, then I was more than willing to let her. She made me feel vulnerable, exposed. It was a scary feeling. Vulnerability was a weakness that could be used against me. As I dreg, I’d been taught to never become vulnerable, to never make myself weak. It gave the enemy the advantage. But when I was with Jessica, I didn’t care about anything but her. Whatever was developing between us—and it was definitely more than friendship—left my head spinning. I’d never experienced this with another person before. Sure, Gordon and I were buds. We had each other’s backs. But that was a male friendship and nothing like this. Having a friendship, a connection with a woman was unlike anything I’d ever imagined. Jessica warmed that cold place in my chest that was supposed to be a heart. She made me feel good. Connecting with someone. Sharing with someone. It was a nice feeling. I liked talking with Jessica. Sharing with her. Being with her.

I rubbed a hand over my face. Jesus. What was she doing to me? I was letting her inside, letting her see the man who was hidden behind the fierce warrior. She was forcing my humanity to the surface, pushing the monster aside. Making me care. And that left me vulnerable. What was I thinking? If the other dregs found out how much she was getting to me, they’d call me “pussy-whipped” and probably toss her out so fast she wouldn’t know what hit her. Or would they? She’d earned their respect by saving my life. Gordon had said he was jealous, that they all were. We might be dregs who’d had the feelings beaten out of us until we felt nothing but coldness inside, but deep down past all that frigid coldness was a scrap of humanity hovering, waiting to be rediscovered. I had felt it shoving itself forward ever since Jessica had come into my life. Was it so wrong to want to be loved? To have a woman care for me more than anything in world? Even if I didn’t deserve it?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jessica Tracker recovered over the next several days, his strength gradually returning. I was pleased that he’d told me his real name, happy that I knew something about him that no one except Gordon knew. I felt special, privileged. I wanted to call him by his real name, but he’d told me not to. Maybe in time he would let me call him Liam. I don’t think he liked that he’d told me the truth. I don’t think he liked to tell me anything about himself. But the fact that he had made me feel good. He must trust me, at least a little, if he were willing to tell me things like that. I was consumed with curiosity about him, literally starving for more information. Who was this mysterious warrior who was giving me small glimpses into his soul? Could I wear him down eventually? Get him to open up to me more? The other dregs showed up every so often, checking in on him. I’d met them all now. Gordon, of course, The Gardener, who supposedly could grow just about anything in the plant kingdom. He was Tracker’s best friend and actually a sweetheart underneath his rough exterior. Nate told me that Gordon was good at “planting the seed and watching it grow”. I sensed a double meaning there. His supernatural talent was an ability to make living things grow in even the toughest of conditions, with nothing more than his touch. When I asked Gordon how his ability helped in a war environment, he said he would “plant a seed” or an idea in someone’s head, and then sit back and watch that seed grow into something larger, generally paranoia. In addition to his prosthetic leg, Gordon also only had one lung. Nate, The Healer, who was an EMT and whose expertise had helped save Tracker’s life. I was fortunate to have witnessed Nate’s supernatural healing touch and to have it performed on me. Nate had a serious nature, like Tracker, but he also had a dry wit that took me by surprise. Nate’s heart had been damaged by a chunk of shrapnel that had lodged into it during an explosion. Apparently, he’d died several times on the way to the hospital, but somehow the EMTs had brought him back. Miraculously, the surgeon had been able to piece Nate’s heart back together, and with strenuous exercise, his heart was able to heal. However, he’d been left with an arrhythmia that now required a pacemaker to keep it beating properly. Tony, The Smuggler, the dark Hispanic man who hated women. When I’d asked

Gordon how Tony had come by the name The Smuggler, Gordon said Tony was an expert at concealing things—especially himself—and slipping them into places unseen. Tony’s supernatural talent had something to do with magicianlike abilities. Tony supposedly had severe mental injuries, which left him unstable, and convinced me to avoid him at all costs. Luke, The Enforcer, who “enforced things”. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but my imagination gave me a pretty good idea. Gordon had informed me that Luke’s supernatural ability had something to do with mind control, that he could mess with people’s minds and make them think or do things with a simple suggestion. I noticed he liked to push people to the limit, irritate them to the point that they wanted to kill him. He also liked to play people against each other, instigate fights. Pissing people off, playing them against each other, would give him an advantage in a war setting. He was definitely an instigator. Was that the “mind control” Gordon had referred to? Despite the violence I sensed lurking in him, he’d never been anything but nice to me. Luke had artificial knees because his real ones had been blown off. He said it only slowed him down a little bit. There was Ryan, The Extractor, a handsome playboy and relentless flirt, who only had one arm below the elbow. He purportedly was an expert at luring women into bed and extracting information from them. Me being the exception, of course. Gordon had told me that Ryan’s supernatural ability was a sexual pheromone that he emitted when around females he wanted to extract information from. The pheromone put women into a sexual haze and made them willingly give in to him and offer whatever information he sought. I was relieved he hadn’t tried to seduce me with that pheromone. Noah, The Hacker, an IT wizard who was amazing with computers and any type of electronic device. I was told he could completely erase a person’s identity and create a new one with a few strokes of the keyboard. He could also hack into any webpage, getting past even the strongest firewalls. His one eye didn’t prevent him from being a tech genius. His supernatural talent was his analytical computer-like mind that could read the binary system in seconds, which enabled him to unlock or hack anything. I could only imagine how intelligent he was. Logan, The Trainer, a physical therapist who helped other injured soldiers recover after injury. He promised to help whip me into shape whenever I was ready to visit the workout room down the hall. He was also a linguistic

specialist. Logan’s supernatural talent was his ability to interpret a foreign language within minutes and then be able to speak and communicate that language in a record amount of time. On a mission, this enabled him to learn what others were saying and then speak back to them in their own language. I could only imagine the amount of intelligence an ability like that would require. Gordon informed me that Logan’s title The Trainer had a double meaning, for it referred not only to his physical therapy workouts, but also to his ability to “train” his mind to learn new languages in record time. Despite Logan’s partial deafness, I sensed he was still a formidable opponent. He and Noah were the “nerds” of the group, but certainly hunky nerds. And a new guy I hadn’t met before named Jacob. His dreg name was The Fighter. Jacob was a quiet, watchful man with dark hair and striking blue eyes. He was a mixed martial arts expert and Gordon said Jacob’s nickname was “Phantom of Death”. Jacob’s supernatural talent was his ability to move so gracefully, so swiftly, so quietly that he became a ghost, a phantom. Apparently he’d never been defeated in any type of fight, because of his ability to move so silently and so fluidly. I learned that Jacob had been discharged after getting shot in the throat, which damaged his trachea and vocal chords. The bullet had miraculously missed his spinal column. He’d had to undergo a tracheostomy and surgical repair of his vocal chords. A three-inch scar trailed across his neck. He’d had to learn how to talk again after the surgery. His voice was deep and raspy, scratchy sounding, and a little creepy. I understood why he didn’t talk much. He probably didn’t like to scare people with his raspy voice. He was indeed a “phantom”. One minute he was there, the next he was gone. Without a sound. There were nine dregs in all. Of all of them, Luke, Tony and Jacob gave off the scariest vibes. I sensed those three were more violent than the others. When I asked Tracker about the dregs, he said that Tony and Nate were partners, Noah and Logan were partners, Ryan and Luke were partners, and Tracker and Gordon were partners. He said Jacob’s partner was no longer with them, that he’d been one of the dregs who’d been killed when they’d escaped. All the dregs were nice to me, with the exception of Tony, who had that constant sneer of disdain on his face whenever he looked at me. I took Tracker’s advice and just ignored him. As Tracker lay in bed, letting his body heal, I brought him books to read, his pencil and sketchpad so he could draw, food and water, and I helped him get up

to use the restroom and to the tub so he could shower. I left him alone while he showered, but I thought about him in there, naked, his muscles glistening with water, wondering what it would be like to step in there with him and run my hands all over his muscular body. My feelings for him—my attraction to him— was growing stronger with each day. What I felt for him was real. It was powerful and a little scary. I learned several things about him while he endured my company and I took care of him. He was a quiet man but very observant. His eyes were constantly moving, always aware, and I doubted he missed anything that went on around him. I had to initiate ninety percent of our conversations. He didn’t seem to mind talking about the other dregs, or things like what the book he was reading was about or what he wanted for dinner, but if the conversation turned too personal, he clammed up. Whenever I brought up his past, he would shut me down with a terse word or a cold look. He didn’t like talking about himself. But I was determined to get the truth out of him eventually. I wouldn’t give up. I sensed he was embarrassed by his injury and having to rely on me to help him do basic things. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to be bedridden and rely on someone else to help me do everything, either. I knew now that it wasn’t just my imagination, he truly was attracted to me. I felt it in the tension that filled the room whenever we were alone together. I caught it in his hot stare whenever our gazes met. Or the way he flinched whenever our hands accidentally brushed. Or the time when I leaned over him to help adjust the pillows behind his head and he inhaled sharply when my boob accidentally smashed into his face. That had been awkward and embarrassing. What would happen when he was better? Would he kiss me again? Did I want him to? That brief moment after he’d awakened and pulled me in for a kiss ran constantly through my mind. Would he leave the apartment once he was well and resume his search for Eliza, abandoning me like he had in the beginning? He was healing a little more with each day and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was better. After dinner on the fourth day, he reached for his sketchpad and pencil that were sitting on the nightstand beside his bed. I turned from the room with his empty plate and glass to give him some privacy, but his voice halted me.

“I want to draw you again.” I slowly turned and met his intense gaze. Heat coiled in my loins. My face burned. I swallowed hard. If I said yes, would he touch me? Did I want him to? Would he make love to me? Was he well enough to do something like that? If I said no, what would he do? I didn’t think he was well enough to chase after me. “Naked?” I whispered, my heart pounding. “Yeah.” He motioned toward his feet. “You can lay across the bed down there, and I’ll draw you while I sit here.” I hesitated, pulling my gaze back to his. “What if I don’t want to?” He stared into my eyes for a long moment. I stared back, trying to decipher the flicker of emotion that ed across his face before disappearing. “It’s not a demand, but a request. You don’t owe me anything anymore, Jessica. Now I owe you. If you choose to let me draw you, it will be because you want me to. But I would really like to draw you, if you will let me.” Was he serious? He’d called me Jessica, not slave. My heart pounded. I couldn’t drag my gaze from his. He waited, his gaze locked on mine. I cleared my throat. “I will if you tell me something about yourself. Something real.” He looked away. “Jess…” My breath caught. My heart clenched. Jess. Now he was calling me Jess. What did it mean? He sighed. Then he rubbed a hand over his face in obvious agitation. “What do

you want me to say? Should I tell you about waking up in a jail cell when I was twelve years old and learning that I was now a prisoner but having no memory of how I’d gotten there? Should I tell you about the repeated torture and abuse and brainwashing that I’d endured from that day forward in an attempt to make me stronger, to make me mean and cold, a killing machine? Should I tell you all about the experimental drugs that were pumped into my system on a regular basis, the animal DNA, trying to turn me into something stronger than human, something more dangerous and animal-like?” I gasped softly and shook my head, my eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to tell me anymore.” His gaze hardened. “Oh, there’s more, and you asked, so you’re going to hear it all. Why don’t I tell you about the people I slaughtered like bugs beneath my shoe? Or would you prefer more details? Do you want me to describe how I interrogated a man, plucked his fingernails off, then removed his appendages, one by one, until he talked? Or maybe you want to hear about the man whose eye I gouged out, trying to get information out of him, while Gordon held him still? His screams still haunt me at night, just like the screams of all the others I tortured and killed. Is that what you want to hear? Because there’s more, Jessica. Lots more. That’s my past. That’s the man I am. That’s the ugly truth. That’s the real you’re looking for.” He held my gaze, his eyes cold and hard. Unforgiving. I swallowed hard, my heart racing, unable to look away. Oh God. I spun on my heel and raced away, fighting back the bile that threatened its way up my throat. “Yeah, why don’t you run and hide!” Tracker shouted after me. “Can’t have your naive little mind actually believing there’s bad people in the world or that horrible things happen!” I stumbled into the kitchen and dropped his dishes in the sink, horror twisting in my gut. Why had he told me that? Was he just trying to scare me? I leaned back against the counter and drew in several deep breaths, trying to come to grips with what he’d just told me. That’s the ugly truth. That’s the real you’re looking for. He was only being honest. Telling me the truth. Because I’d asked him to. You wanted this, Jess. You asked for the truth.

I’d been trying for days to get him to open up to me, and then when he finally had, I’d fled. How did that make him feel if I ran away like I was disgusted every time he told me something about himself? No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell me before now. I’d been in denial all this time, not wanting to it the man I was falling for had done horrible things, or that horrible things had been done to him. I’d convinced myself that he was a good man, that he would magically be “fixed” over time. But I couldn’t “fix” him with dreams. Fixing him would take effort. Mostly from him. But also from others who cared about him. From me. If I ran in horror every time he revealed something about his past, he would believe he wasn’t worth saving—if he didn’t already. Tracker had to want to be fixed, but he couldn’t want it if I didn’t make him feel like he was worth saving to begin with. What if he was too damaged to save? What if he was a lost cause? Don’t give up on him, Jess. He just gave you another glimpse into his soul. It might not have been what you wanted, but it was the truth. Gordon had told me that if I got close to Tracker, that I needed to stick around, good times or bad. Yet I’d fled at the first bad thing Tracker had told me, coward that I was. If I truly wanted to help Tracker, I needed to toughen up. Drawing helped him find peace, helped him deal with his pain. There was no reason why I should be afraid to let him draw me again. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already seen me naked anyway. If drawing helped him heal, then I shouldn’t be denying him that. I groaned. His words came back to me then: His screams still haunt me at night, just like the screams of all the others I tortured and killed. Oh God. Tracker was more messed up than I’d imagined. He was right. I was naïve. But I was developing genuine feelings for him. I cared about him. I liked him most of the time, but part of me still feared him. Could a man like him be transformed? Rehabilitated? Changed from bad to good? I straightened from the sink and drew in another deep breath. I didn’t know what to do about him. About my feelings for him. The thought of him touching me turned my insides to liquid and made me hot all over. I wanted to help him. I

couldn’t abandon him just because he’d scared me with the truth. Be brave, Jess. Go talk to him. Gathering my courage, I returned to his room and paused in the doorway, watching him. He was drawing on the sketchpad. His face was set in concentration as he drew, his gaze never once flickering to me. Did he know I was there? Was he ignoring me? Or was he so intent in his task that he didn’t know I was there? “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to run away. I just…you shocked me.” He kept drawing. “I never pegged you as a coward, Jessica. You asked for the truth and I gave it to you.” He lifted his gaze to mine. “And then you ran.” I swallowed hard, my face heating. “I know. I said I was sorry. I’m…not like you. I’m not used to…so much violence.” He snorted and went back to his drawing. “Tell me, Jess, what was your life like as a kid? You said your mother killed herself and you had to raise your sister alone. That couldn’t have been easy for you. How old were you?” I leaned against the doorjamb, debating whether or not to answer. Finally, I itted, “Seventeen.” He let out a soft grunt and went back to his drawing. “What about your father? Where was he?” “He died when I was ten. My mother was never herself after that. She started drinking, taking too much mediation…” I trailed off. Should I tell him all of it? That she’d been a prostitute and had allowed strangers into her bedroom night after night, and that I’d witnessed on more than one occasion the things they did to her? “So, you were basically taking care of your sister long before your mother died.” “Yes. Eliza is nine years younger than me. She was just a baby when our father died.” I’d been more of a mother to Eliza than our own mother ever had. A part of me resented my mother for that, for forcing me to grow up faster than I should

have, for taking away my childhood and not letting me be a kid. And for forcing me to witness the things she allowed all those strange men to do to her. But I still missed my mother. Still wished she were here. “That’s why I have to find Eliza. She’s all I have left in this world.” He didn’t speak for a long moment, didn’t look at me, as he continued drawing. “You can come in, Jessica. I’m not going to tackle you and rip your fingernails off.” I let out a nervous laugh. Of course he wouldn’t. Still, I hesitated. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I care about you, Tracker and I want to help you.” He let out another snort. “Come see what I’m drawing.” I pushed away from the doorjamb and walked into the room. Pausing at the side of the bed, I glanced down. He turned the sketchpad toward me. It was me again, an entire body sketch, naked. My cheeks flamed as I stared. How did he know my body so well when he’d only seen me naked that one time? It was as if I was looking in the mirror…my arms, my legs, my breasts, my hips, my stomach, my collarbone, my neck…everything was so detailed it was like it was an actual photograph. How had he drawn that so fast? He must have been drawing that picture for a while now and had just finished it. Had he been imagining me naked for days? Heat spread throughout my entire body. “That’s…really good,” I murmured, my gaze downcast. He pulled the sketchpad back into his lap and added a few more lines here and there while I watched. “What do you see when you look at this drawing?” he asked, adding another scratch of the pencil here and a brush of the lead there. I shrugged. “A cool drawing by a talented artist.” He tsked and glanced up at me. “The model not the artist.” I glanced at the drawing again, this time paying more attention, and studying my

face more closely. There was no denying the longing in my eyes, the wistfulness in my expression. The look on my face said I wanted him. Desperately. Dear God, were my emotions written so plainly across my face? Did I seriously stare at him like that? Did the man miss nothing? I cleared my throat and stepped away from the bed, embarrassed. His hand snaked out, wrapping around my wrist, keeping me from fleeing. “What do you see?” he repeated. “Um, a lot more than I want to. Do I really look at you like that, or is that just your imagination running wild?” Please let it be his imagination. He cocked a brow, then reached over to set the sketchpad and the pencil on the nightstand. “You tell me.” Heat washed into my face. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me go. My gaze downcast, I whispered, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not stupid. I know I’m not beautiful. Men don’t glance twice at me. Yet you draw me like I am beautiful. Why?” I swallowed hard, emotion clogging my throat. Did he think I was beautiful? Truly? My breath caught. My head spun with dizzy pleasure. My legs trembled. “Talk to me, Jess,” he whispered. “I can tell you have more to say. So get it all out. I’m listening.” I drew in a deep breath, then forced myself to meet his gaze. Bolstered by his words, I itted, “I didn’t want to like you. You scare the crap out of me. But you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You make me want things I didn’t think were possible, at least not for me. I’ve never been a sexual person— how could I be after what I witnessed with my mother? But I can’t stop thinking about you in a way that is–” I broke off abruptly, snapping my mouth shut in horror at what I’d almost itted. I pulled on my arm again, needing to escape. This time he released me, either from shock or pity, I wasn’t sure which. I stumbled backward several steps, then halted. Silence descended. I wanted to flee, but I was afraid to move. I stood there, immobile, waiting for

him to say something. To do something. Because it would be his response that either sent me fleeing or convinced me to stay. Finally, he spoke, his words soft, though Tracker’s voice was deep enough that I don’t think he could ever speak “softly”. “I can see we have a difference of opinion,” he murmured. “I just drew you the way I see you. And I wanted you to see yourself the way I do.” He turned his head, his gaze direct as it held mine. “You are beautiful, Jessica. Can’t you see that?” He reached over and smacked the sketchpad. “This is how I see you. You’re fucking gorgeous. You’re sweet and caring and gentle and kind and you saved my life.” He turned away for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, before puffing it back out. “It’s exactly how you look at me. I didn’t imagine that. Only you can tell me what it means. Do you want me? I don’t know. You’ve got me swimming in turmoil here. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but you’re changing me. You’re making me do things I don’t normally do.” He hissed out a breath. “Do you have any idea how much I want you? It’s all I can think about. I’m no good for you. I don’t deserve you. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you. I want to corrupt you in so many different ways. I want to make you mine in every way possible.” His eyes blazed as they bored into mine. Heat swept through me, settling into my core, a hot, fierce ache that made me yearn for his touch. My legs trembled again. Oh God. I couldn’t look away from the desire in his eyes. A part of me wanted him to corrupt me. The other part of me was scared to death of surrendering, of giving in. “What were you talking about with your mother?” My face heated. I’d slipped up. I hadn’t meant to mention my mother. Just tell him, Jess. If he judges you for it, that’s his own problem. “Just that she was a prostitute and I had to witness what men did to her. It… made me afraid of men for a long time.” Pain flickered in his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.” He waited a beat, his gaze gentle as he looked deeply into my eyes. “You said earlier that you weren’t that experienced. Does that mean you’ve never been intimate with a man?”

My face grew hotter. I stared at the floor. Was I really having this conversation with him? I drew in a deep breath and decided to tell him the truth. “No. I’m not a virgin. But it was only once. He was just a boy, actually—and that was so long ago.” I glanced up at him. “How long?” His gaze bored into mine. I couldn’t hold his stare and looked away. “I was sixteen. It was prom night. You know. Two teenagers fumbling around in a dark car. I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t like my mother, that I would be in control, but I was wrong. I was exactly like her.” A moment of silence ed where I felt his intense scrutiny. “What does that mean?” I snorted softly, avoiding his gaze. “It was awkward. Uncomfortable. I couldn’t wait for him to get off me. I wasn’t in control at all. I’d let him use me the way my mother let all those men use her.” Silence stretched. I glanced up at him. Sadness filled his eyes. “And you’ve never been with another man since?” I stared at his chest as my face grew hot all over again. “No. I never…really wanted to after that.” He sighed, causing me to glance up into his face. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You deserved better. If that boy used you, it was his own fault, not yours. A man should take more care when he’s intimate with a woman. I will make you a promise, Jessica, that if you ever decide you want me, I will do everything in my power to make it good for you.” I will do everything in my power to make it good for you. I swallowed hard. I’d just told him I’d only had sex once before, and that I’d hated it. Yet it hadn’t scared him away. “What about you?” I blurted. If I was going to tell all, then dammit, so was he. “How many women have you been with? Hundreds?” He snorted out a laugh. “Hardly. Only two, believe it or not. I’m kind of

particular about who shares my bed.” He paused, his gaze heating. “I’d really like you to be the third.” That last sentence was spoken with a soft huskiness that made heat spread throughout my entire body and desire coil in my belly. I’m kind of particular about who shares my bed. I’d really like you to be the third. I teetered in place, part of me wanting to rush into his arms, while the other part of me wanted to flee. Fear battled with desire inside me. I wanted that, too. So much. But God, I was scared. Being intimate with Tracker…he was so big and… what if it was horrible like before? “I meant what I said in the beginning, Jessica. I want you in my bed. But only if you’re willing. What happens next is up to you.” I flushed and lowered my gaze. “I don’t…I’m not…” I trailed off, unable to finish, unsure what I was trying to say. I’m scared. I don’t know how to make the first move. Something flickered in his eyes. “What are you afraid of, Jessica? Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” I drew in a deep breath. “I don’t…want to be used like that. Abused and discarded, treated like trash. Like a whore.” I lowered my gaze. “I’m not my mother.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying convince him of that or myself. He sighed. “Do you really think that with the care I take in selecting my bedmates that I’m going to abuse them?” He lowered his voice. “I guarantee that you will find nothing but pleasure in my bed.” I swallowed hard and glanced up into his face. His gaze smoldered with promise. My pulse raced. What would happen if I said yes? Would I like it? With a promise like that, how could it be anything but good? I cleared my throat and took a step back. This was too much all at once. He was too much. The very idea of his large hands on me made me weak in the knees. “I…need to wash the dishes now.” I backed up another step.

Disappointment flickered in his eyes. “I scared you.” He waved toward the door. “Go ahead, then. Run away.” My breath hitched. Had I upset him? “I need…time to think about this.” I drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” I turned and fled.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tracker She ran. Of course she did. I’d scared her. What did I expect? Telling her the truth about my past, and then telling her I wanted to make her mine in every way possible? While I didn’t regret telling her any of that, I wish she hadn’t run away. I wanted her to be the brave girl she’d been when I’d first met her. But she was afraid of me and I didn’t blame her. Yet she’d itted she had feelings for me, and I’d felt compelled to it I wanted her, too. I groaned in frustration, wanting to race after her and drag her back. Lay her down on the bed and make love to her slowly, thoroughly. Worship every inch of her beautiful body. Show her how good it could be between us. I wanted to erase from her mind that rutting teenage boy who had ruined it for her. I wanted to make it so good for Jess that she never thought of another man but me. But I had my work cut out for me. She seemed to associate sex with being used and abused, and who could blame her after what she’d witnessed with her mother and then experienced for herself? My wound was healing pretty well now. I could probably catch her if I tried. But I wasn’t sure if I was capable of the physical exertion that would be required to do the things I wanted to do to her. And if I got my hands on her, I’d have to make her mine. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I sighed and picked up the sketchpad and pencil again. I wouldn’t touch her, not unless she asked me to. Even though my desire for her was becoming too strong to ignore. She was going to be my downfall if I didn’t get a grip on my feelings for her. Feelings. Yeah. What the fuck? I wasn’t sure what she was doing to me, but she made me feel. She made me want. She made me ache with every fiber of my being. It was foreign—these feelings—and I didn’t know what to do about them. Being bedridden, being forced to sit here and do nothing but think, made it worse. That day after I’d awakened, bedridden from my injury, and she’d held my hand—so tenderly, so caringly—had awakened longings in me that I hadn’t known existed. I’d been in denial ever since, fighting the feelings back. But the truth was I wanted her tenderness to rub off on me. I wanted to revel in her goodness. I wanted to own her, every single inch of her. It was wrong—this obsession. I was a beast, plain and simple. A cold-hearted killer. I would only

hurt her. And that made me wonder—did I want to change for her? I wanted to be good enough for her. But could I ever be good enough for a woman like Jessica? My future was bleak, at best. I had a large bounty on my head. I had nothing to offer Jessica. A woman like her deserved the world. But I’d promised I’d find her sister. And I would. She’d taken care of me these past four days, nursing me back to health. I owed her. Would I survive—would Jessica survive—if I embarked on the hunt for her sister once again? Was it too late to find her sister? The trail had likely gone cold by now. I may never find her sister. But I wanted to do it. For Jessica. If I found her sister, it would show her— hopefully—that I was worth something. It would show her—God willing—that maybe I was good enough for her. That maybe I was worth taking a chance on. That I could offer her something. Bolstered by my conviction to find her sister, by my desire to make myself worthy of her, I began to plan the immediate future. I was going to heal more quickly. I was going to get out of this bed. I was going to find a way to be good enough for Jessica.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jessica Tracker was up out of the bed by ten o’clock that night. He didn’t limp as he walked out of his bedroom, so I imagined his leg wasn’t bothering him too much. And his bullet wound in his abdomen must be better, because he didn’t act like it hurt as he strolled into the living room. He paused as he spied me sitting in his recliner. I jumped up and set the book I’d been reading onto the end table. “Are you feeling better?” He nodded and headed for the door. “Wait!” I raced after him. “Where are you going?” “To find your sister.” “Then I’m going with you.” He halted. “No. You’re staying here where it’s safe.” I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “She’s my sister. I need to help find her.” He scowled. “You could be hurt. Or killed. I can’t protect you and search for her at the same time.” I nodded. “You don’t have to protect me. I can take care of myself. If you don’t let me go with you, then I’ll just follow you like last time.” He let out a long sigh. “Fuck. Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?” I held his gaze. “Why do you?” He choked out a laugh. “God, woman, you’re making me crazy. I should tie you to the bed so you can’t follow me.” Heat swept into my cheeks. “You wouldn’t.”

He chuckled softly. “No, I wouldn’t. Not unless I was staying there with you.” My face grew hotter as I imagined all the kinky things he might do to me while I was tied to his bed. I lowered my gaze. “She’s my sister. You can’t be in control of everything all the time. Let me come with you. Let me help. Please.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. But you’re taking a weapon. Do you know how to shoot a gun?” My mother had had a small pistol. I’d first found it when I was ten, not long after my father had died. Two men had shown up at the door, telling my mother the sad news. My mother had gotten high that night in her misery, forcing me to take care of Eliza who’d only been a few months old. I’d become a surrogate mother that night, taking over Eliza’s care from that day forward. My mother never recovered from my father’s death. It was as if she forgot she had children after he died. I only had a few memories of my father. But they were all good memories. Another man showed up at the door a little later, as I was feeding Eliza a bottle of formula, and after a lot of yelling and crashing noises from my mother’s bedroom, he left, slamming the door behind him. My mother’s sobs urged me to investigate. After putting Eliza to sleep, I tiptoed into my mother’s room. “Mom?” My breath caught and my heart raced as I spied her lying on the bed, naked, her face bloody, bruises slowly forming on her pale skin. I cringed, hurrying toward her, tears streaming down my cheeks. I’d held her for hours afterward, until she finally stopped crying and went to sleep. I’d found the gun under her pillow then. I’d sat there with that gun in my hands long after she’d fallen asleep, stroking the barrel, running my fingers over the cylinder as I spun it around and around and around, imagining all the evil men I could kill with it. “Jess?” Tracker’s voice pulled me out of the memory. I drew in a deep breath and focused on his stern face. “Yes, I know how to shoot.” I’d practiced with that gun, over and over, day after day. Point. Pull the trigger. Die assholes. I vowed I would kill any man who hurt my mother again. Except

the gun wasn’t loaded. My mother couldn’t afford to buy any bullets for it. So my fantasy of murdering all the evil men who abused women never became a reality. Later, after my mother died, I went to a gun range and learned how to shoot. I’d gone every day for several weeks, perfecting my aim. I could hit a stationary target dead on. Though it had been a few years since I’d fired a gun, I had no doubt I could still do it. Tracker went to the pantry area and removed several guns, stuffing one in his boot and another into a holster he secured to a belt around his waist. He handed me a small black handgun. “This should work for you. All you have to do is point and shoot. And yes, it’s loaded.” I took the weapon from him, turning it over in my hand, feeling powerful with it in my grip. “This is the safety.” He pushed a small lever down. “Now it’s ready to fire. I would recommend leaving the safety on until you’re ready to shoot.” 1I nodded, flipping the safety back in place. No problem. I lifted the gun and pointed it at the wall. I imagined all those sick bastards who’d hurt my mother. “Bang,” I whispered. Tracker slipped his hand over the gun and lowered my arm to my side, his gaze holding mine. “You’re not going in there to kill all the men who hurt your mother, Jess. They’re long gone.” Heat crept into my cheeks. How did he know I’d been thinking that? I lowered my gaze. “I know.” A sad smile pulled at his mouth. “Try to be careful with that gun. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me with it.”

I stuffed the small gun into the front of my leggings. “Don’t worry. I’ll only shoot the bad guys.” I might not have been able to do anything to the men who’d hurt my mother. But I now had the ability to kill those who’d taken my sister.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jessica No sooner had we stepped out into the corridor when Gordon intercepted us, coming across the hall and blocking our path. He was loaded down with weapons, a rifle slung over his shoulder, a gun attached to each hip, and what looked like a fanny pack full of bullets strapped above the guns at his waist. “Where the hell are you two off to?” “We’re heading out to find another lead on her sister.” Tracker tried to walk around Gordon, but the hulking redhead stepped in front of him. “Get the fuck out of our way.” Tracker shoved at Gordon’s chest, but the man barely moved. Gordon glowered at Tracker. “Not gonna happen.” He puffed out his massive chest, looking like a red-headed gorilla. “You’re not going alone, motherfucker. I’m coming with you.” Gordon glanced at me. “You sure you want to tag along? You could die out there.” I nodded. “I have a gun.” I showed him the small handgun in the front of my pants. Gordon chuckled. “Good for you.” How had Gordon known we were heading out? Had he somehow felt Tracker’s emotions and figured out what Tracker was doing? Why else would he have all those weapons at the ready? Tracker took advantage of Gordon’s distraction and slipped past him, heading down the corridor. “You can come if keep an eye on Jess for me.” Gordon wrapped a thick arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side. He winked. “I kinda like that job. I get to stare at a pretty girl while he does all the hard work.” Tracker paused in the corridor and spun back to face us. The way he scowled at Gordon made me think he didn’t like Gordon touching me, even if it was

innocent. “Quit groping Jessica and get a move on. I haven’t got all night.” Then he swiveled back around and disappeared down the dark tunnel. Gordon guffawed and urged me along beside him, his arm still around my shoulders. “He’s a bit cranky, isn’t he? You must not be sharing his bed yet or he’d be a lot happier.” Heat washed into my cheeks. Gordon chuckled softly. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of, Jessica. Tracker treats women better than anyone I know.” From out of nowhere, my voice rose up, speaking without my approval. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.” Gordon nodded. “Smart girl. You don’t want to jump into something you’re not ready for. Have you thought about what I told you?” “Yes,” I whispered, glancing down the tunnel in the direction Tracker had gone, but he’d truly disappeared into the darkness. “I want to be here for him. I want to help him any way I can. I want to be the woman who helps him heal.” My face grew hotter at the ission. Gordon was an easy person to talk to. I could see why Tracker trusted him so much. “But I’m not sure how he feels about me. I know he wants me. He told me he did. But that’s just sexual attraction. What if that’s all he feels for me?” Gordon contemplated my words for a long moment as we continued on through the dark tunnel after Tracker. Finally, he gave me a gentle squeeze and released me. “Tracker wouldn’t invite you into his bed if he didn’t feel something for you. He’s not a man-whore like some of the other dregs. I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you. You’re making him soft, Jessica. Making him weak. And from a soldier’s standpoint, that’s bad. It makes him vulnerable when he needs to be strong. But luckily for him, I’m coming along on this mission to help him with that. I’ll try to keep him from being distracted by your presence so he can do his job.” He winked again, making me blush. Then he sobered. “You’re asking if what he feels for you is more than just sexual attraction?” He sighed, rubbed his hand through his beard. “Yeah, he cares for you. It’s messing him up inside.” He lowered his voice. “Like I told you earlier, you could hurt him. Hell, you might even be what destroys him.” He cleared his throat, then marched forward into the darkness.

Gordon’s words left my head spinning as I hurried after him. I didn’t want to hurt Tracker. I certainly didn’t want to destroy him. I had never planned on staying after he found Eliza. I had never expected him to ask me to. I was a nuisance, a burden that I was sure he wanted gone. How could I destroy a strong man like him? Gordon’s words confused me. And filled me with longing. With hope. Did Tracker care for me? Was it more than sexual attraction? Damn Gordon. His words gave me far too much to think about. I needed to come to a decision about one thing. Was I going to give in to the attraction that sparked between Tracker and myself whenever we were together? Or was I going to ignore it, push it—and him—aside, until I left? I didn’t know. And that scared me. Gordon had said I had Tracker all messed up inside. But I was the one who was all messed up inside. And it was time I figured it all out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tracker “You sure you want to go back in there?” Gordon eyed me from the seat of his Harley as we pulled up in front of the building. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” The same blond sergeant had been stationed at the military barricade just outside of the city when we’d arrived. He’d let us through without question. I think he was afraid of us. I was just glad he wasn’t giving us any trouble. We had enough to deal with without having to worry about the military hunting us as well. The dregs had brought my Ducati back to the garage and fixed it up. Luke and Ryan were mechanics and kept everyone’s vehicles operable. They’d repaired my bike so it was rideable again, though it was still scratched and scraped from sliding on its side down the road. Not as pretty as it once was, not that it mattered. It ran. Most of the street lights here had been shot out, casting an eerie darkness over the empty parking lot. Jessica had ridden on the back of Gordon’s Harley the entire way. His bike had room for a enger, while mine didn’t. I’d encouraged her to ride with him—welcomed it, even—not wanting her pressed against my back distracting me the entire way. Not that it helped. She still distracted me the entire way. I thought of her behind Gordon instead, pres against him, and that caused jealousy to spear through me. I ignored her now, trying to push her out of my head, looking only at Gordon. “Yeah. This is where I got a visual of the girl. In the stairwell. I just need you to help watch for threats while I’m focusing on any leads.” Gordon nodded. He knew that when a vision hit me, it took me out of the present for several seconds and made me vulnerable to attack. “Okay, then. Let’s do this.” He turned his bike off and flipped the kickstand down. I did the same. He checked his weapons and I checked mine. I glanced over at Jessica as she dismounted and removed her helmet. She ran her fingers through her dark hair before setting her helmet on the seat. God, she was gorgeous. How could she be so unaware of her own beauty? I closed my eyes, trying to block her from my mind. Bringing her here was a bad idea. Last time,

she’d almost been kidnapped by a guy high on drugs. This time, something worse might happen to her. But Gordon was here. He would protect her with his life. Gordon turned to Jessica. “Stay close to me, girl. My job is to protect you, and I can’t do that if you go running off. Whatever happens in there, you stay with me, got it?” She glanced over at me. “What if Tracker needs my help with something?” Gordon snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she flushed, pulling her gaze back to his. “Tracker can take care of himself. If you get hurt, it’ll be my ass he kicks. Now get your gun out and be ready. You might have to use it. And please, don’t shoot one of us.” She let out a soft huff and yanked the gun from the front of her leggings. “I’m not that stupid. I’ll only shoot at the bad guys.” Gordon chuckled, then snatched up her small hand in his giant grasp. “Let’s go.” I led the way forward. Reaching the entrance, I paused, and glanced back at Gordon. “I’m trusting you with her safety. Please don’t let me down.” Gordon snagged Jessica’s waist and drew her close to his side. “I’ll take care of her like she was my own woman.” Jessica blushed, her gaze darting to mine. It was obvious Gordon was making her uncomfortable, but she’d wanted to come along, so she would just have to deal with it. I turned back to the task at hand. Emptying my mind of all thoughts, I went into “mission mode”. Gently pulling open the door, I cautiously entered the building, glancing around, my senses attuned to the smallest sound, the slightest movement. Gordon and Jessica followed me, their guns at the ready. The lower section of the stairwell was empty this time, the transients having moved on. But the higher we climbed, the more people we encountered. Most moved aside to let us , recognizing that we were dangerous. A few questioned us, but they were ignored, and they stepped back as we trudged upward. Trusting Gordon to keep Jessica safe, I focused hard on trying to get a vision of

Eliza. If I could get a read of the girl, then I might be able to pinpoint her current location. I paused at each floor to center myself and see if I could see Eliza. But nothing came to me. Fourth floor. Fifth. Sixth. We were getting too close to Gunner’s lair. We needed to tread carefully now. More people were on the stairs, but no one I considered a threat. Most of these people were harmless. They stepped aside to let us , some watching us curiously, others hurrying away in fear. I paused on the sixth floor landing and closed my eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of something. And then a vision slammed into me. Eliza. She was gagged, her hands tied behind her back, sitting with several other girls who were obviously prisoners. I dove deeper into the vision, trying to pinpoint her location. Someone was speaking rapidly in Spanish. A man. Shouting at the girls and pointing his finger at them. “Tracker, on your left!” A gunshot rang out. I ducked to the right as the vision slipped away. I blinked, coming back to my surroundings. A man fell down the stairwell toward me, a hole in his chest. I glanced back at Gordon, who slowly lowered his gun. “Thanks, man.”

He jerked his head in a nod. Then he raised his gun and fired twice more as more men came down the stairs. I pushed myself backward, sliding down the stairs on my ass toward him and Jessica, firing at the men who swarmed down the stairwell after us. Gordon snatched Jessica up into his free arm and stumbled back, losing his balance on his prosthetic leg as he tripped backward. I dropped the gun in my lap and latched onto the handrail with one hand, reaching out with the other hand, and grabbed his forearm, keeping him from falling. We all teetered on the stairs for a few seconds before he steadied himself and Jessica, then grunted a “thanks”. Then more armed men came up the stairs from below, and more spilled down the stairs from above. I snatched my gun back up, my finger on the trigger. Fuck. We were surrounded. Gordon and I stood together halfway between the fifth and sixth floors, with Jessica in between us. We exchanged a long glance. A dreg’s connection with his partner went deep. Each dreg shared his partner’s experiences to some extent, both good and bad. The physical. The emotional. The spiritual. Gordon experienced a lot of what I went through, though to a lesser degree, and I experienced his pain in some way or another. It was an unusual connection, something I doubted I would ever experience with anyone else once Gordon was gone. Would this be the last time I saw my best friend? We’d survived worse odds before. But we’d never had a woman to protect while doing so. Gordon gave a slight, barely perceptible nod. He would take care of Jessica. The men surrounded us, at least twenty or thirty of them, pointing their guns in our faces. We kept our guns pointed at them in turn, not wavering for a second. And a standoff began. No one moved. If it had just been Gordon and me, we could have attempted to fight them off and kill as many as we could in the process. But Jess was here. I couldn’t risk her life like that. Gordon and I exchanged another glance. We would play this by ear and see what happened. Though we’d been trained in the art of violence, we only used it if we needed to. Sometimes negotiation worked better than killing. I

should have asked the other dregs to keep Jessica locked up until we got back. If something happened to her, it would be my fault for letting her come along. A laugh floated down the stairs from above. “Come, Mr. Tracker! Gunner’s been expecting you.” A large black man carrying an illegal assault rifle came down the stairs. He motioned us forward with the gun. The other men parted to let him , never taking their guns off us. I hesitated. Should we see what Gunner wanted? He might have information on Eliza’s whereabouts. The vision hadn’t told me where she was right now. I nodded at Gordon and we slowly moved up the stairs, never lowering our guns. Up we climbed. Seventh floor, with guns angled at us from all sides. Eighth floor. This was Gunner’s lair. The eighth floor. The black man led us forward and paused outside of the main suite. He went inside and closed the door. We waited, tense, guns never wavering, while the armed guards kept us in their sights. In a shootout, we would probably lose. But we’d sure kick some serious ass before we went down. The door to the suite jerked opened and the man who’d entered motioned me forward. “Just you.” Gordon tensed beside me. Being separated from my partner was not ideal, especially in a dangerous situation such as this. I couldn’t leave Gordon and Jessica out here with these bastards. Not happening. I shook my head. “They come with me.” The man hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Come in.” He motioned us forward. Cautiously we stepped forward, entering the suite. There were several people in the room, sitting on couches and lounging around the room in various states of undress, all of them obviously high. Scantily clad women, half-naked men. Eyes glazed over. It disgusted me, seeing people who allowed themselves to be controlled by a substance other than their own mind. I had a strong abhorrence to any mind-altering substance. Control was key to

survive in this world. These people were nothing but puppets, slaves to the drug that controlled their minds. A big black man with dreadlocks lounged in a recliner against the far wall, his unusual golden eyes catching my attention. He rose from the chair and came toward us. His attire was extravagant, flashy. Lots of bling bling. Lots of facial piercings. Nose. Lips. Eyebrows. Ears. He was about my height, but more solidly built. At six-two and two-hundred-ten pounds, I was not a small man, but I didn’t possess this guy’s bulk. He had a good twenty pounds or so on me. “You’re The Tracker?” I hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. You Gunner?” He walked around me, his gaze raking me up and down. He nodded. “I’ve never met a dreg before. You look tough. But you’re not as big as I expected.” I snorted. “You think size matters? I could knock you flat on your ass before you even knew what was happening.” The guard who’d let me into the apartment stepped forward threateningly, pointing a gun in my face. I didn’t flinch. He didn’t scare me. I could take him down along with his boss. Gunner chuckled. “That right?” I motioned to Gordon. “You see my partner over there? He’s as big as you. Maybe a little bigger. And I guarantee he’s a lot meaner.” The man’s eyes flashed with interest. He chuckled. Then he inspected Gordon with a critical eye. “I could use a couple of men like you. What’s your price?” I shook my head. “We’re not for sale. I need information. I’m looking for a sixteen-year-old girl with dark hair and hazel eyes. Name’s Eliza. She disappeared a few weeks ago. I was told you were the last person seen with her.” Gunner cocked a pierced brow. “What do you want with her?” His gaze raked over Jessica and a slow smile spread across his face. “Ah…she’s your sister, isn’t she?”

Jessica nodded. “What did you do to her?” She pointed her gun at Gunner and, surprisingly, her hand didn’t shake at all. But he just cocked a brow, unperturbed. He turned back to me. “She hired you to find her sister, didn’t she? Well, you’re a little too late. I sold her a few days ago.” Jessica gasped. She lifted the gun higher, pointing it in Gunner’s face. “Where is she?” I reached over and gently lowered the gun. “Easy Jess,” I whispered. “Let’s not get you killed before we find Eliza.” She swallowed hard, her gaze locking on mine. Right now she was too emotional. She could accidentally shoot someone, and I didn’t want that someone to be me or Gordon. She didn’t know how to keep her cool under pressure like Gordon and I did. “You know, there’s a bounty on your head, Mr. Tracker. One hundred grand.” Gunner turned to Gordon. “And one on your head, Mr. Gardener. Sadly, only ten grand for you. Ten grand is pretty pathetic for a big motherfucker like you. You must truly be worthless.” He eyed Gordon’s prosthetic. “You’ve only got one leg.” Gordon scowled. “I can move faster with my prosthetic than most of your guys can run on two normal legs.” Gunner glanced at me. “That true?” I nodded. “Yep. Don’t let his handicap fool you.” “Then why’s he a dreg? Why was he discharged?” Gunner’s gaze narrowed on me. “Why are you a dreg? What’s your injury?” “He only has one lung. Not that it stops him. He’s still a tough bastard. Me?” I tapped my skull. “I’m loco. You know, crazy.” Several of the gunmen snickered. Gunner narrowed his eyes. Then he moved back to his recliner and lowered his bulk into it. He motioned a voluptuous black girl forward. She leaned over and

whispered something in his ear. He nodded and she stepped back. He turned his strange golden gaze to Gordon. “The bounty on your head is guaranteed whether you’re brought in dead or alive. Ten grand ain’t shit to me. It’s hardly worth the effort of trying to kill you. But I can use a man like you. Your size alone makes you worth more to me alive. People won’t want to fuck with you. I’ll pay you handsomely to come work for me. I’ve got a huge drug empire that needs protecting, plus I’ve been dabbling in the skin trade, and it has me constantly needing guards to protect the merchandise to make sure they don’t escape. What do you say? Want to die today? Or would you rather come work for me?” Jessica tensed. I kept a hand over her gun to prevent her from trying to use it, while Gordon used his large body to protect her from all the guns pointed at us. In a shootout, he and I would go down before she did. But right now, the idea was to prevent a shootout. I wanted to get all of us out of here alive. Gordon glanced at me, his expression unreadable. But I knew what he was thinking. Time to plant a seed. Gordon was brilliant when it came to getting out of tough situations. All he had to do was “plant a seed” in the enemy’s mind, and watch it grow and fester into something bigger. Something that would allow us to escape with our lives still intact. Gordon had come for the sole purpose of protecting Jess. He’d see her safe to the very end, no matter the risk to himself. If that meant pretending to make a deal with Gunner, Gordon would do it. He would plant a seed that hopefully helped us get out of here alive. Gordon nodded at Gunner. “I could use a job. In fact, all of the dregs are currently unemployed. For the right amount of money, they’ll all probably come to work for you. How much you paying?” Gunner’s eyes flashed with greed. I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was imaging how powerful he would become with all of the dregs under his employ. He grinned. “Ah! Perfect. You can convince all of them to come work for me?”

Gordon glanced at me. “We can try.” The voluptuous black girl returned to Gunner’s chair and handed him a bong. He inhaled deeply, puffing smoke into the air, then handed it back to her. His gaze shifted to me. “Looks like your partner’s my employee now. But your situation is a little different. The bounty on your head is a nice one. I can buy a good amount of drugs with a hundred grand.” His gaze narrowed on me. “But I’d rather have you working for me. What do you say? Want to work for me, Mr. Tracker? I’ll pay you well. If you refuse, well…I’ll just hand you over to the men who are hunting you and make myself a quick hundred grand.” Jessica gasped. She opened her mouth to say something. I grabbed her arm and shook my head, then whispered in her ear, “Keep quiet. Gordon planted a seed. Now, we just watch it grow. Let us handle this.” Her gaze darted to mine, and then I could see that she understood. She swallowed hard and nodded. I pretended to consider Gordon’s offer. “I’m in need of a job, actually. I’ll come work for you. If the price is right.” “What about my sister?” Jessica piped up, glaring at Gunner. “Who did you sell her to?” Gunner chuckled. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Tracker. I’ll give you the name of the man who purchased her sister when I get an agreement from all of the dregs to my army.” Gordon and I exchanged a glance. The seed had sprouted and was rapidly growing. Gunner’s greed was taking over. He actually believed he might have the opportunity of owning all the dregs. Moron. “I’ll have to go talk to the others.” I glanced at Gordon and the look in his eyes said that was the right thing to say. I was helping the seed to grow. Good. Gunner grunted. “No can do. If you leave, then how do I know you’ll even come back? Don’t you have cell phones or something?”

Gordon and I exchanged another glance. “Yeah. But they’re in a place where we don’t get cell service. If I want to talk to the other dregs, I’ll have to go to them.” Gunner glanced at Gordon, then back at me, contemplating. “Okay, then. I’ll just keep the girl hostage until you return. I can tell she’s important to you. Otherwise, you two wouldn’t be protecting her so fiercely.” I tensed. Shit. That was not doable. If it were just me and Gordon, we would have already tried to fight our way free without having to plant any seeds. But Jessica was here. And there was no way in hell I would risk her life. We had to use the seed and let it keep growing, or none of us would get out of here alive. Gordon nudged me with his arm. I turned and met his gaze. If we could read each other’s mind, that would certainly be helpful right now, but unfortunately, our dreg connection didn’t go quite that deep. What was Gordon trying to tell me with that look? Follow his lead. Nurture the seed. Urge it to keep growing. Gunner sniggered. “Or I can just kill the girl right now. She’s not worth anything to me.” I let out a fierce growl. “No. You’re not fucking touching her.” I took a step toward the smug bastard lounging in his chair like a king, wanting to smash his ugly face in, but his guards moved forward, their guns pointed at me, halting me. Don’t be an idiot. Don’t let your emotions dictate your actions. I’d never been emotionally involved on any mission before. Jessica’s presence was screwing everything up. Fuck. I shouldn’t have let her come. Gunner laughed and motioned to the guards who were behind Gordon and Jessica. They moved forward and reached for Jessica, obviously to try to pry her away from Gordon. But Gordon stood firm, keeping his arm tightly around her waist, his gun pointed at them. “Try it and you die, motherfuckers.” Goddammit. The situation was getting out of control. “It’s okay,” Jessica whispered. “I’ll stay so you can go get the others. I’m sure they’ll want to work for Gunner. They all do need jobs.” She sounded so

convincing, she even had me believing in the lie. “No.” I turned to glare at her. She was not going to risk herself. I wouldn’t let her. She stared me down for several heart-stopping seconds, then faltered under my glare and lowered her gaze. “She’s my sister,” she whispered. “How else will we get the name of the man who has her?” “I don’t give a fuck,” I snapped. “You’re not staying. They’ll have to kill me first.” Gunner’s eyes filled with interest. “This is utterly fascinating!” He let out a loud chortle. “A lover’s spat!” “I’ll do it,” Gordon said. “To show our willingness to work with you, I’ll stay here until he comes back with the other dregs.” What? No! That would be suicide. The seedling was now rotting, its growth decimated by distrust. Some seeds grew better than others. Some enemies were more difficult to convince than others. Gunner was obviously a tough sell. He wasn’t going to just let us all walk away. Fuuuck! I eyed the gunmen closest to me. How quickly could I take them out? There were four of them around me. Twice as many around Gordon and Jess. They were typical thugs. They thought their weapons—their guns—were everything. Holding those guns made them feel powerful. They didn’t understand that I didn’t need a gun. I was a weapon. But Jessica was here. If I attacked, she could easily be killed in the scuffle. And though Gordon was a fierce warrior, I wasn’t willing to risk his life, either. Gordon eyed Gunner. “We’re soldiers, ? That’s all we know. We need someone to lead us, to give us a job, a mission to do, or we get bored. Why don’t you and I talk about a price while Tracker goes to convince the others to come aboard? Regardless of whether Tracker convinces the others or not, you’ve still got the two of us working for you. And if he does convince the others to , then you’ll have nine dregs. Nine. Think about how powerful that will make

you.” Gordon had just watered the shriveled seedling. Would it be enough for it to regrow? Gunner’s eyes lit up. The greed returned in full force, his eyes flashing with excitement. “Yes, I want all nine of you.” He pointed at Gordon. “You’ll stay here as a show of goodwill that you won’t try to fuck with me.” Goddammit. I couldn’t leave Gordon behind. It went against everything I’d ever been taught as a soldier. A soldier never left one of his own behind. Ever. Just let the seed keep growing. Gordon is good at this kind of thing. Yeah, but I’d never left him behind before. “No one’s staying behind.” My gaze bored into Gunner’s. “You’ll just have to take our word for it.” For the first time since leaving the mansion, I began to regret my decision to allow Gordon to me. What if I got him killed? The other dregs would never forgive me. They wouldn’t understand. None of them had ever been willing to risk their lives like this for a woman. For each other, yeah. That was a given and part of our everyday life. But for a woman? An outsider? Never. Only Gordon and I understood that. Gordon tapped my arm. I turned and met his gaze again. He gave a slight negative shake of his head, warning me to back down and let him do this. He wanted to fulfill his vow to protect Jess, and the only way he could do that was to sacrifice himself for her. He wanted to watch this seed grow into fruition. But fuck, I couldn’t just leave him here. What choice do you have? It’s either him or Jess. You can fight your way out of here. Kill them all! No. It’s too dangerous. Jess could die. You all could die.

Gunner didn’t care about the bounties. He wanted to use us to become powerful. But what if something happened while I was gone? What if they killed Gordon before I came back? “The only way I’ll be able to convince the others to your army is if my friend is alive and unharmed when we come back,” I said at last, stressing the word “unharmed” as I turned back to Gunner. “We’re a close-knit group. If one of us is harmed, the others will seek revenge. Do I have your promise not to harm my friend?” Gunner contemplated me for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “We’ll keep Mr. Gardener entertained here until you return. He and I can talk wages, start the negotiations. But I’m not giving you forever. You’ve got twenty-four hours to convince the others and come back. If you’re not back by then, I might just decide to kill your friend and collect on the bounty instead.” His gaze hardened as it bored into mine. Fuck. I wanted to kill this bastard. I wanted to rip his throat out with my bare hands. He knew he had all the power here. He didn’t trust us, but he was greedy enough to do this deal in the hope he would soon have control over all the dregs. I would have to take advantage of that. The only thing saving us right now was the seed Gordon had planted in Gunner’s mind. Gordon had suggested to Gunner that the dregs needed a mission, someone to lead us. As long as Gunner believed he might be able to control all the dregs, we could make this work. But if the seedling began to rot and die, then we would be screwed. “Yeah, I got it,” I growled out. I had no choice but to leave Gordon here. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Gunner nodded, a gleam in his eyes. He clapped his hands in glee. “Perfect. I’m looking forward to working with you two. And the others.” Gordon stepped toward me, then gently ed Jessica across the distance to me. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I urged her toward the door. “Let’s go.” Gunner’s men parted to let us , then followed after us with their guns pointed at us the entire time. I glanced back at Gordon and sent him a silent promise.

I’ll be back for you. Ten armed men ushered us out of the apartment and down the stairs, their guns trained on us the entire time. It was all I could to not to kill them all and go back in for Gordon. They waited until Jess and I were outside, then went back in the building. “We can’t leave Gordon there!” Jessica clutched at my arm, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t fight them all off, Jess. You saw how many of them there were.” I strode for my bike, ready to enact the plan that was rapidly forming in my mind. Gordon would have to keep nurturing the seed and convince Gunner that I would be back with his own personal army of dregs, an army that would make him powerful. “Come on. Let’s go.” Jessica stared after me. “Gunner thinks I’m going to get the other dregs and that we will all come back, eager to work for him. But we’re really coming back to free Gordon. And kill Gunner.” She nodded slowly and hurried forward, relief crossing her features. “That was brilliant of Gordon. I could literally see the idea forming and taking shape in Gunner’s mind. He’s good.” “Yes. Gordon is a genius.” Gunner didn’t know he’d been played by the best. The seed had been planted in his head and now it was growing, festering, feeding upon his greed and thirst for power. When I came back with the others, Gunner was going to die.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jessica As soon as we arrived back at the underground maze, Tracker told me to go to his apartment while he went to talk to the other dregs. Despite Tracker’s reassurances that everything was going to be fine, I’d sobbed quietly on the way back, worried sick about Eliza and Gordon. Was Eliza okay? Would Gordon still be alive when Tracker went back for him? Tracker had placed his hand comfortingly over mine, and that simple touch had given me strength. We would find Eliza. And the dregs would rescue Gordon. Less than twenty minutes after leaving me in his apartment, Tracker was back. He went straight to his bedroom and slammed the door without saying a word to me. His meeting with the other dregs must not have gone well. My heart squeezed. What had happened? Had they refused to help him? What would he do now? Deciding it was best to leave him alone to figure things out, I turned on the big-screen television and tried to find something to watch. But all I could think about was whether or not Tracker would be able to free Gordon and if we’d ever find Eliza. About forty-five minutes later, Tracker thrashed and moaned from his room, jerking my attention away from the television. He must have fallen asleep and was now in the midst of another nightmare. I shut off the television and rose from the chair. He was obviously hurting. Badly. I hesitated, then headed for his room. He needed me, whether he wanted to it it or not. And dammit, dangerous or not, I was going to help him. Ignoring the fear that clenched at my gut, I knocked on his bedroom door. Be careful, Jess. He might hurt you. He’d warned me to never go in his bedroom if he wasn’t awake and coherent, because he didn’t know what he might do in his dream state. But I couldn’t let him suffer alone anymore. He didn’t answer my knock. So I pushed open his door and flicked on the light.

He was still fully clothed, tossing and turning on top of the bed. “No,” he whispered. “Fuck you. Fuck you!” I hesitated. He was obviously in the middle of a nightmare. This would be the worst time to approach him. Staying in the doorway where I felt relatively safe should he wake up confused, I yelled, “Tracker! Wake up!” He stilled. His breathing grew shallow. Had he heard me? I took a hesitant step toward the bed. Then another. He sat up abruptly, his gaze zeroing in on me. I could feel his sudden tension from where I stood. But he didn’t appear to recognize me. And then it occurred to me to try a different approach than what I’d used before. “Liam,” I whispered, taking another step toward him. “It’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.” I kept shuffling forward until I reached the side of the bed and paused, ready to bolt to safety if he lunged at me. “Please, Liam, let me help you.” My senses on high alert, I waited tensely for him to react. He turned his head toward me, his expression softening. His body relaxed, the tension leaving him. “Momma?” he whispered, his voice small, childlike. My heart crashed down and splintered apart. The man before me right now was not Tracker, a violent killer, but Liam, a small boy who I desperately wanted to know more about. An innocent child that I somehow sensed had endured too much pain and sorrow. I leaned over and touched his cheek. He turned his face into my palm and let out a sigh. I waited, and when he didn’t turn back into the soldier and attack me, I slowly sank down on the edge of the bed next to him, believing the danger had ed. He grabbed my wrist and kissed my palm. “I thought I told you to say out of my bedroom, Jessica.” And just like that, Liam was gone, and Tracker was back.

But I wasn’t afraid. There was no anger, no coldness emanating off him. Just… sadness. Resignation. What was going through his mind? Heat tingled in my hand from the brush of his lips. His breath tickled my palm as he continued to hold my hand in front of his face. “You were having another nightmare,” I whispered, trying to ignore the awareness that crackled between us. “I can’t stand to see you hurting. Why won’t you let me help you?” He sighed. “You want to help me?” His gaze probed into mine. My heart thundered loudly in my ears. I swallowed hard. My voice shook as I spoke. “Y-yes.” “Then let me touch you,” he said hoarsely. “Help me to forget.” Desire coiled in my loins, mixing with a hint of fear. I wanted this, yet I was still afraid. “How?” I whispered. “I don’t…know what to do.” My face burned. He smiled gently. “Shall I start? And if you like it, I’ll continue? If you don’t, I’ll stop?” His words were soft, gentle, but there was definite heat in his eyes. Let him touch you, Jess. You know you’re going to like it. Desire pooled deep in my belly. “O-okay.” He held my gaze while he lifted a hand and gently cupped the back of my neck. My breath hitched as he slowly lowered his head. His lips brushed mine. Magic soared between us, a mingling of breaths and desire and a deep emotional connection I’d never experienced before. I moaned softly, mesmerized by his kiss, his touch, his very essence. I lifted my hands to his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, angling his head for better access, his tongue sweeping in to

tangle with mine. I gasped and clutched at his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. Oh my God. His arms came around me, pulling me closer, as he deepened the kiss further, claiming me with his mouth, his tongue, his desire. Finally, he drew back, looking deeply into my eyes, his gaze searching. “Shall I continue?” I swallowed hard, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes. “Yes.” His lips twitched, ever so slightly, then he kissed me again, gently brushing his lips against mine. He drew back, holding my gaze, then kissed me again. Softly. Slowly. And again. A soft brush of lips against lips. And again. Over and over. He drew it out, long, slow, hot kisses that made my heart race and desire surge through me, heating every inch of my body, turning me into a wanton pool of lust, desperate for more. My hands trailed down his torso, feeling his hard pecs beneath the T-shirt. I wanted him naked. I wanted to feel all those hard muscles against me. Skin against skin. Lifting his shirt, I slipped my hands inside. He moaned softly, leaning away. Then he quickly shed his shirt, his gaze melting into mine with a fierce heat that made my breath catch. “Go ahead,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “You can touch me.” I hesitated, then let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not very experienced with this kind of thing. What if I…don’t do it right?” He let out a soft groan. “Everything with you feels right, Jess. Go ahead. God, don’t stop now.” I reached out to touch his naked chest, pressing my palms against his hot skin. Muscles bunched and clenched beneath my hands. He was so hard. So powerful. So masculine. So beautiful. I lowered my head and kissed his nipple while continuing to gently explore and caress him with my fingers, feeling him everywhere. God, he was gorgeous. Then I moved across his hard chest to his other nipple and licked it gently.

He hissed out a breath, closing his eyes, and leaned back against the headboard. Did that mean he liked what I was doing? His hands went to my hips. He lifted me, pulling me closer, on top of him. I fell into him, gasping softly as I landed directly on his erection that swelled against his jeans beneath me. So hot. So hard. So ready. My breath caught. I slowly lifted my gaze to his face. His eyes were open, hooded, lust blazing from their dark depths as he watched me. Oh my God. I was straddling Tracker. Right on top of his swollen erection. Desire coiled deep in my loins, a longing so fierce, so intense, I was about to burst from need. I closed my eyes and rocked against him, unable to control the longing inside me. He moaned, his hands tightening around my hips as he thrust up against me. I threw my head back and gasped at the sensation. Then we moved together on the bed, rubbing, moaning, gasping, but still separated by our clothes. I needed more. I needed to feel him against me. Inside me. I lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, watching his face. He breathed out harshly through his nose, his gaze darkening as he stared at me. He slowly lifted his hand, hesitated, and jerked his gaze to mine. “Can I touch you?” I nodded, my gaze never leaving his. Yes, oh yes! He gently, reverently cupped a breast in his palm. His skin was rough, coarse, but when he rubbed his thumb across my nipple all I felt was intense pleasure that rippled straight down to my very core. I gasped softly and pressed closer into his hand, while rubbing against his erection beneath me. He let out a soft growl, then raised his head and took my nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. A sharp, pleasure-pain coursed through me, making my toes curl. I pressed against him, moaning softly, my body on fire with longing. Oh God, more. Please, more. I tangled my fingers in his short hair, hanging on tight, as he continued to lavish my breast with his mouth, over and over. Oh God, it felt so good. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

He leaned back, breathing heavily. “Is this what you like? My mouth on you?” I looked into his smoldering eyes that had turned the color of slate. “Yes.” He let out a harsh breath, then rolled me over, flipping me on my back next to him. He leaned over me, covering my body with his, his mouth taking mine in a savage kiss that left me reeling, breathless. He was relentless in his possession, his big body smothering mine while he ravaged my mouth, over and over, leaving no doubt who was in charge. Leaving no doubt that I was his. My breasts pebbled against his hard chest, my body hyperaware of every single inch where it touched his. It was almost too much. His possession. Too consuming. I couldn’t breathe. I loved every second of it. More. I wanted more. His hands went to my leggings and he quickly yanked them down, leaving me bare. His mouth continued its exploration, trailing down my body, kissing me everywhere. I completely forgot about my earlier fear, letting out a soft breathless sigh as he moved lower, and lower still. Desire coursed through me, heating me everywhere, making me want. I gasped as I felt his hot breath between my legs. I squirmed and moaned as that small bundle of nerves came alive under his touch and another jolt of heat shot through me, a strange tingling that centered in my core and made me hyperaware of his every touch. He continued his relentless assault with his mouth, over and over, driving me insane with desire. I clutched at the covers, moaning softly, wanting, needing, but afraid of this foreign invasion of privacy, this intimacy that I’d never allowed anyone before. He continued his assault and I gave a startled cry as a wave of something powerful came on strong. I tried to ignore it, tried to push it back, but he kept at me relentlessly until I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I let out a soft gasp as he brought me to the brink and forced me over the edge. To a place I’d never been before. It was a long, long moment before I crashed back to earth. Yes, it was a little embarrassing to it I’d never had an orgasm before. But no one had ever done that to me, either. Tracker gazed up at me, his eyes smoldering with lust.

A loud, thunderous banging came at Tracker’s apartment door. “Fuck!” He jerked upright, scowling. His gaze latched onto mine, his expression softening. “We’re not done here. I’ll be back.” He reached over and gently stroked my cheek. “I promise.” I nodded slowly, my body still humming from the incredible orgasm he’d just given me. I wanted to experience it all with Tracker. Every little thing. Please hurry back. He rose from the bed and quickly left the room. Voices came from out in the corridor, then Tracker’s door slammed. I rose slowly from the bed and quickly dressed. When I ventured out of Tracker’s room moments later, he was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Tracker Leave it to Tony to interrupt me while I was right in the middle of touching Jessica for the first time. Fuck, I could still taste her on my lips. I’d never gone down on a woman like that before. I’d never wanted to. Until Jessica. God damn, the woman tasted like freedom and sex and heaven all mixed into one. I wanted her so much it was literally screwing with my mind, messing me up inside. And I’d been so close to having her, making her mine in every way possible. Until Tony had pounded on my door. Tony’s unnecessary interruption pissed me off royally. I wanted to smash his fucking face in. A familiar darkness raged inside me, swirling around, seeking release. I needed to set the darkness free or it would consume me. I shoved him backward. “What the fuck you want?” Tony sneered. “You. Come on, motherfucker. You want a piece of me?” “Yeah,” I snarled. I couldn’t go back to Jess when I was in this kind of mood. I would have it out with Tony first. All the dregs were pissed at me for what had happened to Gordon, for leaving him behind. I didn’t blame them. I was pissed at myself for what had happened, too. How long could Gordon keep the seed growing in Gunner’s mind? Not one of the other dregs had agreed to help me get Gordon back yet. I wasn’t sure if any of them would help me. I’d done the unthinkable. I’d left one of our own behind. Tony waved me down the hallway, a disdainful look on his face. “After you.” I marched past him down the corridor to the workout room. Damn him. I needed a physical release, a way to purge myself of all the emotions swirling inside me. Desire for Jess. Frustration by Tony’s interruption.

Anger at myself for failing to get Gordon out of there. How the fuck could I have left him there? As luck would have it, Nate was in the workout room, slamming his fists into the punching bag. All the dregs were religious about keeping our bodies in shape. It had been drilled into us for so many years it was like breathing. Tony followed behind me, snickering softly. I turned and glared at him. “You and me, in the ring. Right now.” Nate paused to glance over at us. As Tony’s partner, he was able to decipher Tony’s moods better than the rest of us. Tony made an elegant bow before me and motioned me toward the ring. “Ladies first.” The rage inside me festered, the darkness taking control. The urge to release it hit me hard. Tony hated women for some reason, Jessica in particular. He’d mocked me from the moment he discovered I was letting her stay with me, calling me pussy-whipped, saying I was going soft. He blamed Jessica for what had happened to Gordon. Nate hurried forward, stepping between us. “In the ring. You know the rules. Tap out when you’ve had enough. I’ll be the ref.” He glanced at Tony. “Tracker’s bullet wound is off limits. Got it?” Tony’s lip twisted in a snarl. He was probably the most violent of the dregs. He had no mercy. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what went on inside of his head. But there was no doubt in my mind his soul was damaged. Gordon, Nate and I had pulled him off a guy he’d beaten to death on one of our missions a few years ago. His rage had been so overpowering that he couldn’t stop, even after the guy was obviously dead. Tony had worse issues than the rest of us. That’s why he’d been discharged. His mental state was iffy at all times. He was like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. Nate could handle him better than the rest of us. If I thought I was a beast, Tony was ten times worse. He wouldn’t be gentle with me. He’d probably go for my injury just to prove he could. If Nate weren’t here to referee, Tony might even try to kill me. This was perfect. I could release my frustration, my aggression in the ring. I

could purge myself of the darkness swirling inside me. I could rid myself of the demons threatening to take hold. And I could let Tony beat me to a bloody fucking pulp. It was what I wanted. What I needed. Punishment. I wanted to punish myself for my failures. A part of me wanted to punish myself for caring about Jessica, for letting her get to me. For making me feel. For changing me, making me weak. I wanted to get back to her, to finish what we’d started, but right now I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to touch her again. Tony had brought my demons to the surface and they needed to be released before I went anywhere near Jessica. No sooner had Tony and I entered the ring, and we were on each other, slaps, kicks, punches, strikes to tender areas. Just as I suspected, Tony went right for my bullet wound, elbowing me hard. I fell back onto the mat with a soft gasp of pain, landing on my ass. Tony tackled me onto my back, wrapping his arm around my throat in a submission hold. He squeezed hard. Relentlessly. I gasped, choked. His eyes filled with bloodlust as he stared down at me, his expression cold, lifeless. It occurred to me in that moment that Nate might not be able to drag him off me. When Tony went into a bloodlust, it was almost impossible to stop him. I reached down blindly until I grabbed his ankle and yanked it backward. He grunted, his arm loosening around my neck enough for me to escape. I rolled away and lunged to my feet, my bullet wound throbbing. Tony bounded upright, limping on his injured foot. Nate circled around us, watching for a signal that one of us wanted to stop. The door to the workout room burst open. I flicked my gaze over as Jessica stormed into the room with Ryan and Luke. Ah shit. What was she doing here? Tony took advantage of the distraction and launched himself at my legs, knocking me backward onto the mat again. Then he began pummeling my face with his fists. This was a little out of control, even for Tony. Taking out our aggression in the ring was common, but this level of violence toward one of our own went to the extreme. He must be really pissed at me for letting Gordon get kidnapped. Even so, I welcomed the assault. Craved the pain. Wanted to bleed.

“Stop it! Let me go!” Jessica’s voice penetrated my senses, snapping me out of the haze of pain inflicted by Tony’s fists. I couldn’t see around Tony’s body to what was happening over by the door, but if those bastards hurt her, I’d kill them. I slammed the side of my hand into Tony’s throat. He gasped and fell back. Rolling off me, he lunged to his feet, his eyes black with bloodlust. I slowly rose, eyeing him warily while trying to keep an eye on Jessica. Jessica shoved open the gate and flew into the ring, making a beeline straight toward me. Nate snagged her around the waist, bringing her to an abrupt halt. “Whoa there. Stay out of this. Tracker wanted a fight, so let him have one.” “Are you crazy?” She squirmed in his hold. Tony tackled me again, yanking my arm back in a fierce arm bar. Pain careened up my arm into my shoulder. I grunted and ground my teeth together. Son-of-abitch, it hurt. I should tap out, but I didn’t know if Nate would even notice, he was trying too hard to hold Jessica back. And I doubted Tony would let me up if I did. There was a sudden blur, a muttered curse, then Jessica landed on Tony’s back. “Get off him!” She pulled at his hair, grabbed at his face with her hands. Tony let out a snarl. He had to release my arm in order to thrust her aside. She careened across the mat and slammed into the fence, letting out a soft gasp of pain. Son-of-a-bitch! That did it. Rage consumed me. No one hurt my woman. No one. I flew at Tony, tackling him back onto the mat, and quickly got him in a chokehold. “Don’t you ever,” I hissed, watching as his face turned blue, “ever touch her again, you hear me?” Blood dripped from my bloody nose, landing in a small droplet on his chin. Tony smirked at me, but he didn’t tap out. Son-of-a-bitch! Did he want me to kill him?

Strong arms yanked me up and away from him. Nate pulled Tony to his feet while Ryan and Luke held me back. “What the fuck’s got into you?” Luke smacked me in the arm. “He’s pussy-whipped.” Ryan snickered. “Leave him alone.” I fought against them until they finally released me. “Enough!” Nate shouted, glancing from me to Tony and back. He gave Tony a hard shove in the chest, forcing him back a step. Then Jessica was there beside me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Come on, Tracker,” she said softly, steering me toward the fence. I didn’t resist. I didn’t want to. The rage, the darkness was gone now. Tony had helped me release it. I just wanted to go back to my room and finish what we’d started. Nate halted us, grabbing my arm. “I should check you out first, make sure you didn’t suffer a concussion or a broken nose. Tony welled on you pretty hard.” I shoved Nate’s hand off. “I’m fine.” I glanced over at Tony. I didn’t blame him. I’d deserved that. “We’ll get Gordon back.” Tony held my gaze for a long moment, then he jerked his head in a nod. We’d reached an understanding. For now. “I’m coming with you.” His words halted me. Seriously? I didn’t know what to say. I would need all the help I could get. I nodded. “Thanks, man.” “I’m going, too.” Nate eyed me, his expression serious. “Gordon’s one of us. We can’t just leave him there.” Relief swept through me. Two helpers were better than none. “Ryan and I are coming as well,” Luke added. I breathed in another sigh of relief and nodded my thanks at Luke and Ryan.

Nate clapped me on the shoulder. “Give me a little while to talk to the others. Say…an hour? I think I can convince them to us.” “Thanks.” A great weight lifted from my shoulders. I would have help trying to free Gordon. With the other dregs’ assistance, I believed we could do it. I went with Jessica back to my apartment, then sat on the toilet lid while she cleaned my wounds. Neither one of us spoke. Words weren’t necessary right now. I could feel the anger radiating off her. She was pissed. She probably wanted to punch me. My lips twitched. “What’s so funny?” She closed the first aid kit and stuffed it back in the cabinet. “You guys were acting like children back there, brawling like beasts. You’re supposed to be friends.” Her disapproval was obvious. “What were you fighting about anyway?” I rose and captured her in my arms. “Nothing important.” She’d come to my defense. She’d attacked Tony, of all people. She’d been fearless. Beautiful. A warrior. She was fucking hot. And I was going to finish what we’d started. Right fucking now. Nate had said to give him an hour. That was plenty of time for what I had in mind. I pushed her up against the bathroom sink, pressing my hips into hers, letting her feel the evidence of my desire. Her gaze darted to mine, her face filling with color. I lowered my head until my lips just brushed hers. My bottom lip was split and sore from Tony’s fists, but I didn’t care. She let out a breathless sigh, her gaze locked on mine. Then I tasted her, brushing my lips against hers, over and over. Soft. Gentle. Coaxing. Lips brushing against lips. A sensual exploration. I would never get enough of this woman. She let out a soft moan and lifted her hands to my shoulders. Lust shot through me. I’d never really kissed a woman this way before. Soft. Slow. Gentle. I’d never wanted to. I hadn’t known a kiss could feel like this. That Jessica could make me feel like this. Kissing her was hot. Addictive. I couldn’t get enough of her sweet lips. I kept kissing her and kissing her, my senses attuned to her

response. She leaned into me, kissing me back, her tongue reaching out to tangle with mine. She gently pulled my sore lip into her mouth and sucked it, licking her tongue across the cut. I let out a soft growl. This woman messed me up. Her breath came faster. Her heartbeat accelerated against my chest. Her nipples pebbled against my skin. And I knew if I reached down and cupped her between her legs, she would be wet. Mine. She wanted me. Me. It was a heady feeling. Being wanted. I tilted my head, angling my mouth so I could access hers more deeply. I urged her to open for me and when she parted her lips on a soft sigh, I thrust my tongue in her mouth, wanting to claim her. Make her mine. She kissed me back, her arms tightening around my neck, her fingers pulling at my hair. I was on fire. I needed her. Now. I wanted to give her another orgasm. This time while I was buried deep inside her. I scooped her up against me, still kissing her, and headed for my bedroom. I was going to drag this out as long as I could, enjoy every moment of touching her, make it so good she never thought of any man but me ever again. I laid her back on the mattress and lowered myself above her, still kissing softly, gently, forcing myself to go slow, even though I was so hard I ached fiercely with my need for her. She pulled her mouth from mine, staring up into my eyes. “Tracker?” Those gorgeous hazel eyes of hers swirled with ion. For me. My breath caught. “Yeah?”

She ran her fingers through my hair, glancing down at my chest, then pulling her gaze back to mine. She drew in a deep breath, slowly puffed it out. “I’m ready now. Make love to me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Jessica Tracker’s gaze darkened. “Oh, I plan to, sweetheart. Every fucking inch of you is going to know my mouth.” Heat enveloped me, washing over my entire body. He was doing everything just right. Everything perfect. And I wanted him to keep going. To keep kissing me. To make love to me. To taste me everywhere. “What you did earlier…” My face grew hot. “No one’s ever done that to me before.” His gaze gentled. “I know. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He hesitated, his gaze delving into mine. “I know I’m not good enough for you. I never will be, but God, I want you.” He lowered his voice. “So damn bad.” He hesitated, his gaze searching mine. “Are you sure this is what you want? Do you want me, Jess?” I swallowed hard. “Yes. I want you, Tracker. Only you.” He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a soft groan. “You don’t know what that does to me, hearing you say that.” He kissed me again, his lips soft against mine, gentle, seductive. “Show me how much you want me,” he said huskily, kissing me again, and again. “I want to make you happy. I need to make you mine.” Another kiss, deeper than before. “Yes,” I breathed against his mouth. “Yes.” This strong, beautiful man was showing me how wrong I’d been about sex. He was showing me how truly beautiful it could be between two people who desired and cared about each other. He must care for me. Right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so gentle, so tender. So loving. He kissed down my neck and back up to my ear, sending little shivers of desire down my spine. “If I do something you don’t like, don’t be afraid to stop me.” He lifted his head, his gaze delving into mine. “I want you to want me as much as I want you. If you don’t want me, stop me now.”

I stared into his eyes that were now dark as slate with a just a hint of silver in them. He was giving me a chance to say no. To push him away. But I didn’t want to push him away. I wanted this. I wanted him. “Just keep kissing me,” I whispered. “And touch me, please. I like it when you touch me.” He lowered his head to take my mouth in a long, slow, deep kiss that left me breathless and reeling and wanting more. He thrust his hand in my hair and tilted my head back, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Where? Show me how you like to be touched.” “Everywhere,” I whispered, squirming against him, wanting him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. “Touch me everywhere.” His calloused hands slipped underneath my shirt to stroke up my sides. I shivered in longing. His tenderness choked me up for a moment, making me feel cherished. Desired. Loved. He kissed me again, his hands cupping my breasts and gently squeezing, massaging. Heat shot straight to my core. Moistness gathered between my thighs. Oh God. I was ripe for the taking. He could do to me whatever he wanted. “Tracker.” I arched up against him, letting my fingers spread over his chest, feeling the hard pecs beneath my hands. He was so strong. So sexy. I sat up and wiggled out of my shirt, wanting to feel those hard muscles against me. He leaned back, letting out a sound of appreciation, his gaze taking me in. “You’re gorgeous, Jess.” My gaze locked on his. I’d never felt gorgeous before. “I want to feel you against me,” I whispered, pulling him closer and rubbing my breasts against his chest. He made a low growl deep in his throat and yanked me tighter against him. My breath caught as my breasts pebbled against his hard chest and our bodies melded, skin against skin. This felt so good. So right. He tilted my head back and kissed me again, his tongue eagerly mating with mine. Our breaths mingled. Our hearts raced. Our mouths meshed. The heat between us intensified. I was

burning. On fire. For him. We sat there like that, kissing, touching, our bodies entwined for what seemed like hours. I lost all sense of time. Everything around us disappeared. It was just me and Tracker. The only thing I was aware of was him and how he made me feel. Beautiful. Desirable. There came a point where I realized we were both naked and lying back on the bed. I had a vague recollection of him removing my leggings and shucking his shorts, but I’d been so lost in how he made me feel that it barely ed. He rolled me onto my back and settled between my legs. Leaning up on his arms, he stared down at me. “Am I doing everything okay?” I nodded. “You’re perfect.” He kissed me again. Then he leaned back, his gaze delving into mine. “I’m going to take you now. I’m going to make you mine.” I swallowed hard and nodded, my gaze locking on his. Yes. I was ready. So ready. “Yes,” I whispered. He kissed me again. “Hold that thought.” He reached over and opened the drawer on the nightstand. He sat up briefly and I stared as he slipped on a condom. I glanced down at his impressive “package”. He was huge. Intimidating. And so very male. Another wave of heat swept through me. But I trusted him. He was the first man I’d truly trusted. I glanced up at his face. He was watching me closely, perhaps a little worriedly. “You okay?” I swallowed hard. Was I okay? Yeah. But I was a little nervous. He was so huge. What if…he didn’t fit? “You want me to stop?” “No.” I reached for him, wanting him to touch me again, wanting him to kiss

me. If he didn’t, I might think too much about the last time I’d done this with a man, and that would ruin everything. Don’t go there, Jess. Just think of Tracker. My one time sexual experience flashed through my mind then, against my will. The fumbling in the dark car, the awkwardness, the discomfort. I shoved it back, not wanting to that time. So far this experience was nothing like that one had been. It wasn’t clumsy or awkward or uncomfortable. Tracker wasn’t a hormonal-crazed teenager. He was a grown man. A sexy man. With Tracker, this could be nothing but beautiful. Tracker came back to me then, settling between my thighs, urging my legs apart. I breathed him in, his clean masculine scent relaxing me. “Look at me, Jess.” His voice commanded me to lift my gaze to his and not focus too hard on what he was about to do to me. I swallowed hard and lifted my gaze to his. “Relax,” he murmured, “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you trust me?” I swallowed hard and nodded. He lowered his head and kissed me again. Long, slow, deep. God, the man could kiss. My toes curled. I wrapped my arms around him, holding on tightly, and let go of my last lingering doubt. The kiss went on and on and on. Tracker took his time, slowly, gently making me crazy with desire for him all over again, his kisses magical, his hands roving over my body, stroking, exploring. It was so hot in here. I needed him to cool down the fire raging inside me before it completely consumed me. “Mine,” he whispered against my ear. “Say it, Jess. Say you’re mine.” I squirmed beneath him, my body on fire with need. “Say it,” he growled, “say you’re mine.” “Yours,” I whimpered.

He kissed me again, his tongue delving deep. And I surrendered to him, relaxing and letting him lead me, letting him completely consume me. He kept kissing me, over and over, while he made love to me, giving me no choice but to accept what he was doing, forcing me to take all of him. Forcing me to it it wasn’t bad at all. He wasn’t hurting me in the least. Oh my God. I let out a soft moan. It felt…so good. He didn’t give me a chance to think. Or protest. He just kept kissing me while his body took possession of mine. His scent, his strength, his very essence took hold, pulling me along, and dragged me into an experience I’d never anticipated. I had no choice but to let him make me his. It was so intense, so overwhelming, as we flew over the edge together, and I was completely swept away. Afterward, our heavy breathing was the only sound as we lay there, spent, the scent of sex filling the air. My world had just tilted on its axis. I lay there, stunned, trying to catch my breath, and a mixture of shock and wonderment coursed through me. I had just been taken by a dreg. Thoroughly fucked, though I didn’t particularly like that word. Made love to, I thought dreamily. Tracker just made love to me. It had been nothing short of beautiful. “Making love” described it better than anything. Love? Who was I kidding? Tracker was a dreg. He probably didn’t know the meaning of the word “love”. But he’d definitely made me his. Reality crashed home. I’d just done what I’d vowed never to do. I’d surrendered to him. I’d given myself to him. Completely. I had just been taken by a dreg. And I didn’t regret one single moment of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Tracker Stunned. That was the best word to describe how I felt in that moment. Completely stunned by what had just happened with Jessica. Holy shit! Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for the way I’d felt with Jessica in my arms. The sex I’d had in the past had been nothing compared to this. The way I felt right now, lying next to her after what we’d just shared, was amazing. We’d connected, bonded in a way that was so deep and powerful it scared me. Yet it felt so damn good. So right. She’d just rocked my fucking world. I didn’t know how else to describe it. How could I let her go after this? You can’t keep her, dumbass. I knew that. As soon as I found her sister, I would have to set her free. As much as it hurt, I would have to let her go. I got up to dispose of the condom, my heart pinching at the thought of letting her go. I wasn’t going to think about that right now. I came back to bed and drew Jessica against me, pressing a kiss to her neck and snuggling against her. For now, I was going to enjoy our time together. I wasn’t going to ruin this with thoughts of goodbye. She didn’t speak, and neither did I. Words weren’t necessary right now. Holding each other was all that was needed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jessica Tracker didn’t speak, but if he was as overwhelmed by what had just happened as I was, then no words were necessary. It was a lot to process—what had just happened between us. I don’t think I could describe the way I was feeling right now. His breathing slowed, and moments later, he was asleep, his body relaxing in slumber. Had I helped with his nightmares? At least for tonight? If he woke in the middle of another nightmare, would he accidentally hurt me? Would he mistake me for the enemy? I snuggled more tightly against him, covering his large hand with my own. No, he would never hurt me. Never. I was his now. I wanted to be. Would he let me stay after we found Eliza? Did I want to? The answer came easily. Yes. I was falling hard for this man. I longed to learn more about him. I wanted a future with him. My mind filled with fantasies of a happily ever after with him. And when I drifted off to sleep, it was to dream of Tracker. Of a beautiful future together. My own happily ever after. When I woke, I was alone in the bed. I sat up slowly, then noticed the piece of paper sitting next to me by the pillow. I picked it up. It was a rose. He’d drawn a beautiful rose for me. With no thorns. Like all his drawings, it was extremely detailed. Lifelike. Stunningly beautiful, the petals, the stem, the leaves outlined in intricate detail. I pressed it against my heart. Happiness swept through me. He was so sweet. Despite his roughness, he had a tender side too. A caring side. Could he possibly love me? And it hit me then—hard. I loved him. I was in love with Tracker. I was in love with a dreg.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Jessica I held Tracker’s rose against my chest for a long moment, then decided to go find him. The clock on the nightstand said 11:47 p.m. It was almost midnight. I still had the small handgun Tracker had let me use before. I stuffed it in the front of my pants and stepped out into the corridor. Muffled voices came from down the hall. From the workout room. I paused outside of the room and listened. They were planning to go rescue Gordon now. Risking their lives. They might be doing it for Gordon, but they were doing it because of me, because I’d come here asking Tracker to find Eliza. And I’d insisted on going with them when they’d gone to Gunner’s lair. If anyone else was injured or killed—it would be on me. I decided in that moment that I was going with them. I was going to help in any way that I could. I was going to find out who had my sister and I was going to get her back. I quickly slipped down the corridor and headed for the surface, wanting to beat them to the garage. They wouldn’t let me go willingly, but if I snuck inside a vehicle, they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it unless they spotted me before we got there. My “photographic” memory came in handy now, helping me make my way through the maze to the surface. I shivered as the ghosts hovered around me, their souls tortured and howling with their pain. I wasn’t afraid of them. They couldn’t hurt me. They were dead. I reached the garage and punched in the code I’d memorized the day I’d watched Tracker entering it. The door opened and I darted inside. I smacked the button that closed it, then moved across the dark garage, wondering which vehicle would be the easiest to sneak inside without detection. Which car would they take? If they were all going, they would need at least two or three cars. The Escalade seemed the most likely, as it could hold the most engers. I just had to get inside without detection. I checked the doors, but they were locked. So, I crawled underneath the back of the Escalade and waited.

Less than five minutes ed before the garage door opened and the dregs entered the building. The Escalade beeped, its lights flashing as Nate unlocked it with the key fob. The hatchback rose up, also from the key fob. Feet approached. The doors opened. People climbed inside. Doors closed. Engines roared to life around me. Feet paused near the back of the Escalade as someone set something inside. The feet moved away, heading for the front of the vehicle. I scrambled out from beneath the Escalade and launched myself in the back just as the hatchback began to close. There was a soft click. And I was inside. Nate started the engine. I held my breath, making myself as small as I could in between all the weapons that they’d tossed into the back. I was surrounded by guns and ammunition, grenades and knives. They were ready for a war. No one spoke for several moments. Then, as they headed out of the garage, they began to talk about the rescue. I recognized Nate’s voice, of course. It was his Escalade. And Tony’s slightly accented voice that was laced with his typical underlying anger and hatred at the world. Two other voices ed the conversation. Noah and Logan, I suspected. Which meant Tracker was probably on his Ducati. Or riding with Jacob or Luke or Ryan. They grew silent then, lost in their own thoughts, probably thinking about what was going to happen when they arrived at Gunner’s place. After a while, I began to doze off, the car’s motion sending me into sleepiness. “You’re fucking kidding me.” The loud voice jerked me awake. I opened my eyes, staring at two angry faces that peered over the seat at me. Oh crap.

“Uh, Nate, we’ve got a stowaway,” Noah muttered, turning away from me. “Tracker’s gonna be pissed.” Logan quirked a brow at me, but he didn’t say anything. Now that they’d discovered me, I couldn’t hide anymore. I sat up slowly and met Nate’s gaze in the rearview mirror. His stare was hard. Angry. Tony let out a fierce growl from the front enger’s seat. “Pull over and toss the bitch out. She’s a liability.” I flicked my gaze to Tony. “I’m not a liability. And I’m not a bitch.” Tony’s black gaze bored into mine. I fought the urge to flinch and look away. Cowering in front of this man would only confirm his belief that I was a useless female. Nate sighed loudly. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, muttering an angry curse. “Jessica, I should pull over and toss you out, but Tracker would never forgive me if I did.” Tony jerked his scowling gaze to Nate. “Seriously? You’re worried about what Tracker thinks right now? Just get rid of her!” He pulled his furious black gaze back to me, his expression filled with contempt. I swallowed hard and met Tony’s glare. “I’m going there to get my sister back. I’ll stay out of your way. I won’t hinder you. You won’t even know I’m there.” Tony turned away, muttering, “Puta perra.” I had no idea what that meant, but I knew it wasn’t flattering. I had a feeling he’d called me a bitch again—or something worse. “Fine,” Nate said at last. “We’re almost there anyway. Just stay out of our way or I guarantee one of us will exterminate you. And don’t let Tracker see you. If he does, he won’t be able to concentrate, and it could fuck up the mission. It could get him, or one of us, killed.” “No manches!” Tony snarled, turning to stare out the window. “Un-fucking believable.”

Noah and Logan exchanged glances, but they made no effort to the conversation. Everyone grew quiet. Less than fifteen minutes later, Nate brought the Escalade to a stop at the military barricade just outside of the city. I peered through the front window and spied Tracker talking to the guards. “I hope they don’t try to stop us,” Nate murmured. “They won’t,” I assured him and the others. “They told Tracker their superiors warned them to not engage with you guys in any way.” Everyone exchanged glances. “That’s interesting,” Noah said. “Why wouldn’t they just kill us?” “Because they’re scared of the dregs,” I informed them. “Their superiors told them to just let you by.” Tony let out a snort. No one else made a sound. The guards waved Tracker through and then we pulled forward after him. We were inside the city. Several minutes later Nate parked the vehicle in the parking lot next to Tracker’s Ducati. Gordon’s purple Harley was nowhere to be seen, so the people who had him must have taken his bike. I ducked down so Tracker wouldn’t see me and remained hidden while the dregs climbed out of the vehicle and gathered their weapons. Nate paused for a moment with the hatchback open, blocking me from Tracker’s view and blocking my view of Tracker. “Get out now,” he whispered, “before Tracker sees you.” He strode away, lifting the key fob to show me he was about to close it. I leapt out of the vehicle, diving for the ground, and scrambled behind the back tire. The hatchback closed and the dregs snuck away, heading for the building. Leaving me alone.

A military patrol ed by on the street, but no one else was about. I waited where I was for several moments, trying to gather my courage and figure out what I was going to do now. I needed the name of the man Gunner had sold Eliza to. How could I get it? Someone here had to know, right? I rose from my hiding place and headed for the front of the building. I didn’t see the dregs anywhere. I made it inside without incident. The stairwell that had been filled with transients and addicts the last time I was here was now empty of people. I headed up the stairs, quietly, cautiously. Second floor. A few bodies lay here and there. Third. More bodies. Fourth. Even more bodies, but still no sign of the dregs. They’d taken out everyone who’d crossed their path as they’d climbed up the stairs. Where were they? Gunfire from somewhere above answered my question. I halted, my heart thundering loudly in my ears. Then I rushed upward, continuing on up the stairs as fast as I could, dodging the fresh bodies and the blood that was splattered everywhere. More gunshots. Explosions. People screaming. Was Eliza up there somewhere? If so, I vowed I would find her. I kept climbing. And climbing. My heart racing at the exertion, my lungs nearly bursting from the strain. At last, I reached the eighth floor. More bodies lay out in the stairwell, others lined the hallway. I spotted two men crouched low with weapons drawn just outside of an open doorway. Tony and Nate. Where were the other dregs? Tony’s gaze flickered to me. He muttered something under his breath. I hurried forward, pausing next to him, ignoring his glare. I peered into the apartment. I spied Luke and Ryan crouching at opposite ends of the room with smoking guns in their hands. I snuck past Tony and through the open door before he could stop me. He whispered something to Nate behind me, but I was too focused ahead of me to pay attention to him. Luke and Ryan both lowered their guns as I slipped into the room. More bodies littered the apartment around me. I spied Gunner’s body, half-in,

half-out of his recliner. There was a hole in the center of his forehead. Good riddance. Asshole. I let my gaze sweep the room again. There was blood everywhere. I moved forward, pausing to glance at each face, somehow keeping my horror at bay, but I didn’t see Eliza anywhere. “Clear!” Luke shouted. An answering, “Clear!” came from down the hallway. It sounded like Logan. Fighting sounds came from the other end of the apartment, farther away. Was that where Tracker was? I headed down a long hallway, pausing to look into each room, checking for Eliza. The first room contained only bodies or injured people. None of them Eliza. I caught a glimpse of Logan and Noah farther down the hallway, kicking doors open and entering rooms. Leaving them to do what they did best, I peered into the second room. I gasped. Gordon lay on the floor, his torso covered in blood. Other bodies lay around him, some moaning, others already dead. My heart squeezed. Oh no! No, no, no! This wasn’t supposed to happen! I rushed forward and knelt beside him, taking his big hand in mine. Gunshots came from the other end of the apartment. Fighting sounds. Grunts. Groans. Thuds. Gordon’s eyes flickered open, his gaze slowly focusing on me. “Jessica,” he murmured. “Does Tracker know you’re here?” “No. I snuck inside Nate’s Escalade.” He coughed, blood spurting from his lips. “Smart girl.” He chuckled softly. He closed his eyes again. His breathing slowed. “Gunner figured out we’d played him. He shot me.” My breath hitched. I squeezed his hand tighter. “Stay with me, Gordon. Please.” A sob slipped out. “You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself like this. It will kill Tracker if he loses you. I should have stayed instead of you.”

Gordon opened his eyes. “No. They would have sold you, just like they did your sister. I did it for Tracker. So he could be happy with you. I promised to protect you, and I did.” He closed his eyes again. Coughed some more. Then he whispered, “I know the name of the man who has your sister. Enrique Vasquez. He runs a Mexican gang. I can’t the name of it. Tell Tracker and he’ll find your sister.” He coughed again, opening his eyes. “ what I said. If you love him, then stay beside him no matter what. Be there for him. I know…” He closed his eyes again, wheezed in a breath. “I know you’ve been with him. I felt…his happiness. Good for you, girl.” Embarrassed heat swept over me. He knew? His breathing grew raspy. He was fading fast. Another sob burst out of me. I squeezed his hand hard, willing him to open his eyes again. Willing him to be okay. A tear trickled down my cheek. Then another. This was my fault. I sensed movement behind me and jerked my head around as Tony entered the room. He stepped around Gordon and knelt opposite me, taking Gordon’s other hand and squeezing it tightly. Gordon’s eyes popped open. “Tony.” He coughed up more blood. “Hey, man.” “Fuck. Hang on, Gor. We’ll get you out of here.” Tony’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. He closed his eyes and muttered something over and over in Spanish. A prayer? I considered him with new awareness as realization clicked. He did have feelings. He might be a complete asshole to me, but he cared about Gordon. That made him human, after all. For some reason, that made my chest tighten even more. Tony swallowed hard and opened his eyes. “Nate!” he shouted, sounding as desperate as I felt. “In here!” Gordon’s eyes flickered open, then closed, but he didn’t speak. His breathing slowed even more until his chest finally stopped moving. Tony gripped his hand tighter. “Fuck.”

And as I knelt there across from Tony, and Gordon slipped away from us, we connected, bonded in a way I’d never believed possible: our shared loss of someone we both cared for. I didn’t know Gordon nearly as well as Tony did, but I’d still witnessed the kindness in him, the goodness. He was Tracker’s best friend. I would miss him. So much. The tears fell in earnest now. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t bother trying to. I couldn’t let Gordon’s hand go, even after I knew he was gone. I didn’t want to it he was dead. An unbearable heaviness, a painful ache filled my chest. This was my fault. I’d done this. I’d killed Tracker’s best friend. Tracker would never forgive me for this. None of the dregs would. I would certainly never forgive myself. Tony cleared his throat and rose just as Nate rushed into the room with Luke and Ryan behind him. Tony’s gaze darted to mine. For the first time, I witnessed emotion swirling in his black eyes. Pain. He shook his head at Nate, then turned away and left the room without a word. I swallowed hard, forcing my emotions under control. I knew what I had to do. I let go of Gordon’s hand and gently rested it on his massive chest. I kissed his cheek in a final farewell. Then I rose to my feet and moved past Nate and the others without looking at them. I had to get my sister back. On my own. I wouldn’t endanger Tracker or any more of the dregs. I couldn’t have any more deaths on my conscience. This was my mission now. And I was going hunting for a man named Enrique Vasquez.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tracker Gone. My best friend was gone. I stared at Gordon’s body, a sense of failure slamming into me hard. I’d failed him. He was dead because of me. Coldness swept through me, ice wrapping around my heart. We’d cleaned the place out, killing everyone we saw. Luke had dispatched Gunner before I’d gotten a chance to question him. Now I had no idea who had Jessica’s sister. Bodies littered the floor around us, the war now over. We hadn’t left a single person alive. Male. Female. Thug. Prostitute. They were all dead. And Gordon was gone. I dropped to the floor and knelt over Gordon’s body. My partner was dead. Emotion crawled up my throat, trying to strangle me. I swallowed hard, forcing it back down. I couldn’t lose it in front of the others. They would think I was weak. I had felt Gordon’s pain as I’d snuck through the fire escape window with Jacob. I had known Gordon was injured, but I’d hoped—prayed—we’d get to him in time. By the time Jacob and I had made our way through the back of the penthouse and down the hallway to this room, slaughtering everyone we came into with, Gordon was already dead. The other dregs had gone through the front, eliminating the threats from the stairwell and the living room and kitchen areas. Grief hit me with a rush, slamming over me with the force of a Tsunami. I gasped. My chest squeezed. Hard. A hand clasped my shoulder. Nate sighed. “Sorry, man.” I nodded, unable to speak. The other dregs came up behind me. “Gunner’s dead,” Luke reminded gently. “We avenged Gordon’s death.”

The others murmured their agreement. I let out a soft snort of disgust. Didn’t they get that my partner was gone? He’d never ride by my side ever again. He’d never spar with me on those nights when I was restless and needed a release. He’d never be there for me when I needed someone to talk to. Without Gordon, I truly had no one. You have Jess now, a voice whispered in my head. I had left Jessica asleep in my bed earlier when I’d gone to discuss the rescue mission with the other dregs. I hadn’t wanted to leave her. Hell, I had wanted to stay with her and hold her all night long. She completely consumed me. What had happened between us had been more than just sex and I was smart enough to it that. I’d found an amazing woman that I never wanted to let go. A happiness had filled my chest, a fullness I’d never experienced before. But that happiness was gone now. Gordon was dead. Jacob stepped forward and knelt beside me, his hand on my arm. “I know what it’s like to lose your partner,” he said in that deep, raspy voice. “If you need someone to talk to…” he broke off and looked away, shrugging. I nodded my thanks, but I didn’t look up. I was too emotional right now. I couldn’t look at any of them. Jacob patted my shoulder awkwardly and rose. I needed Jess. Needed her arms around me. Needed her soft, comforting touch. Needed to hold her close. Needed to know I wasn’t as alone as I felt right now. I needed her, so damn much. An uncomfortable silence fell. Feet shifted. I sensed glances being exchanged. What was going on? I got control of myself and glanced up, my gaze darting from one dreg to the next. “Spill it,” I growled at no one in particular. “What do you guys know that I don’t?” Nate cleared his throat. “Jessica stowed away in the back of the Escalade. When

we found out she was back there, we were almost here, so we let her ride the rest of the way. We told her to stay back out to the way.” I lunged to my feet and advanced on Nate. No fucking way… Tony, Luke, and Ryan all moved in front of me, blocking my path. “Where is she?” If she was dead…I couldn’t…even contemplate that right now. “We don’t know.” Nate’s expression was serious. “She was here, in the building. I saw her just a few minutes ago. Tony saw her. But now she’s gone.” I spun around, glaring at everyone. “Where could she be? If we killed all these motherfuckers, then where would she go?” Silence reigned. Then Tony muttered something in Spanish. He rubbed a hand roughly over his face. He sighed loudly, then looked me in the eye. “I know where she went.” What? I lunged at him, reaching for his throat, wanting to strangle him. Son-ofa-bitch! Jacob and Noah yanked me back. “Tracker, get a grip!” Nate snapped. “Let Tony talk.” I growled and squirmed against the arms holding me back. “Talk! Where the fuck is she?” Tony’s dark gaze stayed firm on mine. “She went after the guy who has her sister. Gordon told her the bastard’s name before he died.” I snarled and pulled free, shoving my face in Tony’s. “How do you know this?” His gaze never wavered from mine. “Because I was there. I overheard it.” I continued to glare at him, but he still didn’t budge. He was serious. I sighed and closed my eyes, stepping back. What the fuck? Stupid, stupid girl. What was she thinking? Why hadn’t she waited for us? For

me? I should have gone back to my apartment and checked on her before we’d left the maze. If I had, I would have discovered she was missing, and she wouldn’t have been able to get away with this. Damn her. A heavy sigh escaped me. She’d been there before Gordon ed? That relieved me a little, knowing she’d been there for him at the end. Gordon had liked Jessica. Her presence would have comforted him. Was he in a better place now? With Ellen? I opened my eyes and glared at Tony. “Why the fuck didn’t you stop her?” Tony shrugged. “I didn’t know she was going to leave. She just…disappeared.” I let out a howl of pain that was directed at no one and everyone. At myself. “How can I track down the asshole when I don’t know his name?” Tony’s lips twisted into his attempt at a smile. “No problem, amigo. I know the guy’s name.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Tracker We buried Gordon beneath a large pine tree behind the old plantation home. The sun was already up by the time we got back to our hideout, and it beat down on our backs as we took turns digging a grave for our befallen friend. As much as I’d longed to immediately go after Jessica, my friend deserved to be put to rest first. Everyone said a few quiet words, then we all walked away, leaving him to rest in peace. Another vision of Eliza had flashed through my mind right after Tony had told me the name “Enrique Vasquez”. I’d seen Eliza quite clearly, sitting on a bed in a small room, looking out a window. Across from her had been another small bed. A room with two beds. The other bed was empty. A college dorm. An image of a college campus had flashed through my mind. And I’d seen more Hispanic men with guns, guarding the buildings. I’d told the other dregs about the vision and Noah had immediately gone online and searched for colleges in Augusta. He’d said there were at least fifteen colleges in the city. It would be time-consuming going from campus to campus, but as soon as I reached the right one, I would know. I would feel Eliza and know she was there. Jess was another matter. I wasn’t sure where she was or if she was okay at this point. All I could do was hope she was safe. It was almost one in the afternoon by the time we finished burying Gordon and I gathered what I figured I would need in my search for Jess and Eliza. I didn’t expect any of the other dregs to me, and I refused to ask any of them. No one else would die because of me. To my surprise, Tony intercepted me as I was heading out of my apartment with my guns and plenty of ammo. “If you want to find your woman, you’re going to need my help.” I quirked a brow in disbelief. Was he serious? The dreg who disliked Jessica the most wanted to help find her? “Why is that?” “Because I’m Mex-i-can, man. I speak the language. I can talk to the Enrique. I can get things from him that you can’t.”

I considered his words. He was right. He was fluent in Spanish. I barely knew a few words. But why would he want to help? “Why?” I repeated. “You don’t even like her.” He looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “She was there for Gordon in the end. She gave him comfort before he ed. For that, I am grateful to her.” He pulled his gaze back to mine. “And I respect her, believe it or not. She’s brave, your woman. Tough. Fierce. She would make a fine warrior.” Pride swelled in me. Yes, my Jessica was brave. And tough. And fierce. And so beautiful, inside and out. God help me, I had to get her back. I had to make sure she didn’t get herself killed. I cleared my throat. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm. “No. You’re not going out there in broad daylight. You’re gonna stay here until dark. And then we’re going and getting Jessica back.” “I’m not waiting until dark! She could be dead by then.” A door closed somewhere down the corridor, then footsteps clomped forward as the rest of the dregs approached. They reached us and gathered around. “We’re coming, too,” Nate said. “Jessica’s one of us now. And a soldier never leaves one of his own behind. But Tony’s right. We’re waiting until dark. Don’t you think our entourage of fancy cars will capture attention wherever we go? If we go out now, someone will see us. Someone will turn us in. And we can’t save Jessica or her sister if we’re dead.” “Fuck.” I closed my eyes and rubbed a hand over my face. He was right. Ever the logical one, Nate always seemed to have a clear head no matter the situation. Would his head be this clear if it was his woman in danger? Nate squeezed my arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her.” I shoved his hand off. “Fine. But I hate waiting. It’s going to kill me.” Tony’s lips twitched. “Not if you’re distracted. Come on, amigo. I know how to ease your pain.”

They all steered me toward the workout room, making sure I didn’t bolt out on my own. I appreciated their , but it pissed me off, too. A few rounds in the ring was what I needed to clear my head and get it on straight. In a few hours, we would head out. And I would be ready.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Jessica The small handgun gripped in my hand, I slipped from one dark place to the next. I was now a mere woman against the criminals who ruled the streets. How the heck would I find Eliza on my own? I should go back, stay with the dregs, let Tracker help me. And then others might die. My chest squeezed as I ed Gordon lying on that floor in a pool of blood. He’d sacrificed himself so Tracker could be with me. He’d died because of me. That was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life. No one else was going to die because of me. I couldn’t have another death on my conscience. I refused to. I would find Eliza on my own. I had to. There was no other choice. I wasn’t a tracker. I didn’t have the skills Tracker did or his supernatural ability to “see” things. But I had determination, and I wasn’t giving up on Eliza. I tried not to think about what Gordon’s death would do to Tracker. He would be hurting right now, missing his friend. And probably cussing me out. I didn’t expect him to forgive me. I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me. It would probably be best if I just found Eliza and moved on. But I didn’t know where we would even go. Everything had been taken from us when the gang had forced us out of our apartment. We had nothing. My heart pinched at the thought of never seeing Tracker again. I was in love with him, and he didn’t even know it. I hadn’t had the chance to tell him the truth. Would he even want me after what I’d done? His best friend was dead because of me. He didn’t need me in his life as a reminder of that. Besides, he was a dreg. Damaged. A man whom I wasn’t even certain could feel love. We’d experienced something beautiful and ionate that I would cherish until my dying day. But sex wasn’t love. And even though it had felt like much more than just sex to me, that didn’t mean he’d felt the same. I needed to focus on finding Eliza now. That was my biggest priority. Taking a

deep breath, I closed my eyes and forced all thoughts of Tracker from my mind. I spent the rest of the night and most of the next day searching, asking questions of anyone I came across, looking for Enrique Vasquez. Most people turned away from me, refusing to talk. Others said to beware of Vasquez, that he was dangerous, but they had no idea where to find him, and that even if they did, they wouldn’t tell me. The military patrolled up and down the empty streets, but other than the occasional gunfire from farther away, there were no interactions between them and the gangs. I wasn’t sure how long this war would go on. I just had to find my sister before it was too late. With dusk falling, and my exhaustion creeping in, I finally found someone to help me. A group of Hispanic kids were playing basketball in an empty parking lot. When I asked them if they knew Enrique, they all went silent. Then a good-looking kid named Carlos approached me, tossing the ball to his friends. “Enrique’s at Paine College downtown. He took over the campus there a few weeks ago. Are you sure you want to go there? It’s dangerous.” “Yes. Thank you.” I hurried away as the kid went back into his basketball game. A half hour later, I made my way to the deserted campus of Paine College. Straightening my spine with determination, and forcing a courage I didn’t feel, I headed toward the center of the campus, assuming Enrique would want to rule from there. The sun was just going down, shadows closing in around me. I only made it as far as the first building before an armed guard appeared from out of nowhere. He said something in Spanish that I didn’t understand, so I just shrugged my shoulders and tried to appear non-threatening. He motioned me forward with the gun, marching me toward the center building that I’d been heading for. Perfect. He was probably taking me to Enrique. I had no idea what would happen during the next few minutes. I would question Enrique about Eliza and try to bargain for her release. He might laugh in my face. He might kill me

outright. He might even decide to sell me into the sex trade as well. Though the idea terrified me, if I was inside Enrique’s network, I had a better chance of finding Eliza. Taking a deep breath for courage, I walked forward. The closer we got to the center building, the more armed guards appeared. Soon, I was surrounded by about ten Hispanic men with guns. I swallowed hard and tried to hide my fear. I thought of Tracker, of those incredible moments in his arms. I would never forget last night, no matter where life took me from here. Tracker would always hold a special place in my heart. My first true love. I missed him already. I wished he were here to give me courage to face whatever was about to come. But Tracker wasn’t here. And that was my own doing. I’d tricked him, sneaking off without telling him. He might not forgive me for that, either. Again, I pushed thoughts of Tracker from my mind and braced myself for whatever was about to come. You’re doing this for Eliza. Be brave, Jess. Be strong. The guards searched me, crudely brushing their hands over my breasts and intentionally groping between my legs. I gritted my teeth and bore their disgusting touch. They took my gun—my only defense—away, then ushered me through a door at the front of the building. Most of them remained outside. Two pushed me forward and down a long hallway. There was a guard stationed outside of a room at the end of the hall. He rapped on the door. Another guard opened it from inside. So far, everyone here was Hispanic. Did this Enrique guy speak English? If not, I would have a difficult time communicating with him. The guards conversed in Spanish, then shoved me forward into the room. The door closed behind me. Enrique sat behind what I assumed was the college dean’s desk. Eating. Apparently I’d interrupted his breakfast. He dropped his fork and pushed his plate aside. I glanced around, noticing he’d turned the office into his private

throne. A large box of guns sat to the left of his desk. Another box contained what looked like drugs of some kind. And still another box was full of bundles of cash. I was now in the heart of illegal activities. I shoved back the shiver of fear that snaked down my spine. You can do this, Jess. Leaning back in the large leather office chair, Enrique eyed me with cold black eyes. He wasn’t quite what I’d expected, though I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. He was of average height and build, not ugly or scarred or mean-looking, though his eyes held a meanness, a coldness that I expected a criminal to have. “Chica blanca, chica blanca.” He waved me closer, his black gaze narrowing as he scrutinized me. “I know you.” Whew. At least he spoke English. And if I looked familiar, that meant he had Eliza. Or had done something with her. “No, you don’t know me.” I cleared my throat and spoke louder. “I believe you have my sister, Eliza. I’ve come to negotiate for her release.” Surprise crossed his features. He threw his head back and laughed heartily. An evil sound, it grated on my nerves. “Negotiate?” He sniggered. “I no negotiate with females. I sell them.” I cleared my throat. “Can I at least see her? Make sure she’s all right?” If I could get to Eliza, then maybe we could figure out some kind of escape plan together. He glanced at one of the guards and said something in Spanish. The man left the room and closed the door behind him. “I send Juan to find your sister.” He eyed me, his gaze raking me up and down, stripping me bare, perusing my assets. He scowled and I sensed he found me lacking. Which was fine with me. I didn’t want to be found attractive in this particular situation. But Eliza was prettier than me. I could easily see these guys wanting her. Selling her. ing her around… Bile threatened its way up my throat.

Don’t think about that. You’re going to get her out of here. I couldn’t bear the thought of what they might have done to her. “I get a buyer for you,” he said after completing his perusal. “Sí?” I barely held back my choke of denial. “Sí,” I responded, though inside I fiercely objected. If I cooperated, maybe they wouldn’t be so strict on security and Eliza and I could find a way to escape. If escape wasn’t possible, then I wanted to be sure Eliza and I stayed together. “Can you sell me and my sister together? You know, to the same person?” He contemplated me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Sí. Some buyers like two women.” Though my heart was pounding with fear, at least Enrique could arrange to sell us to the same person, so we wouldn’t be separated. The guard returned a few minutes later and spoke to Enrique in Spanish. Enrique nodded, then glanced at me. “Your sister is in Hollis Hall. You go to her now. You will stay there until I sell you.” I swallowed hard and nodded. I might be a fool for just handing myself over to this gang to be sold, but I was doing it for my sister. They were letting me stay with Eliza. Overwhelming relief swept through me. I couldn’t wait to see her. Was she all right? Had they hurt her? The guard led me across campus to a building with the name “Hollis Hall” on the front. A typical dorm, it had all the basic necessities for a large number of people, which explained why Enrique had set up camp here. He could house all the women here until he sold them. The guard led me to a room four doors down on the right. He shoved open the door. And there she was.

Eliza sat on a small bed against the wall, staring out the window. It was a standard dorm room made for two residents. She was the only one in the room. She looked so small and innocent, sitting there. So fragile. My baby sister. My only family. I’d practically raised her on my own. My chest squeezed. She was alive! She turned toward us, her eyes going wide and rushed forward, flinging herself in my arms. We hugged tightly, sobbing, clinging to each other, assuring ourselves we were both alive, then stood back to look each other up and down. The guard left without a word. “Oh, thank God I found you!” Eliza let out another sob and hugged me again. “I’m sorry, Jess. I messed up. I should have listened when you told me to stay put. But I wanted to help. You’re always doing everything for me and I wanted to do something for you for once. I wanted to show you I wasn’t a burden.” I hugged her tightly again. “You’re not a burden. You’ve never been a burden.” She sniffled, then leaned back and wiped at her tears. “They haven’t hurt me. Not really. There’s lots of girls here. They don’t let us leave the dorms. There are guards everywhere. What are they going to do to us?” She hadn’t been harmed yet, thank God. I’d been terrified she would have been raped or beaten or killed before I found her. But she was alive. How long could I keep her safe? We had to escape. There was no other option. I would protect my sister with my life. But even if we did manage to escape, where would we go? Back to the dregs. Back to Tracker. That was my goal. To somehow get back to Tracker. If he sent me away, there would be nothing I could do about it.

But before I left, he was going to know I loved him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Tracker “They’re here.” I opened my eyes as the vision slowly faded. “Both of them.” We were at Paine College, the fourth one on Noah’s list. As soon as I’d stepped on the campus, a vision had flashed through my mind of Jessica and Eliza, hugging tightly. They were here. Jess had found her sister. Now I had to get them out of here. Enrique had amassed a fairly large army, all Hispanic. The gang was called “Sureños” which Tony said meant “southerners.” It was probably a good thing Tony had come along. Since he was Hispanic, he could slip inside easier than the rest of us could, because the other guards would be less likely to question another Hispanic man and might even think he was one of Enrique’s men. Tony could also communicate with them. I was prepared for an all-out war. I wasn’t letting anyone have Jessica. She was mine. I would fight to the death to free her. There were several large dorms on campus, not to mention the many other buildings, including the cafeteria, the istration buildings, the library and the classrooms. Finding Jessica and her sister would require stealth, time, and effort. We would have to work as a group and keep in with each other to try to locate and then free the girls. “I will go in and find her,” Tony offered as we all gathered around and prepared to go in. “I can blend in with the other Mexicans. They will be less likely to suspect me of anything.” I couldn’t argue with that. This mission was unlike any other we’d ever been on before. We’d never freed innocent people like this before. I decided then and there that I was going to free any women I came across. Turn them loose. I knew what it was like to be a prisoner. If I could help someone be free, I would do so. Everyone spread out with their partners, heading for different buildings. Since Jacob and I had both lost our partners, we now paired up. Jacob and I reached the closest building and paused by the front entrance, guns

ready. I nodded at Jacob. He nodded back. We rushed at the guards, quickly taking them out. Then we slipped inside.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Jessica A hand over my mouth jerked me awake. I gasped, inhaling the rancid scent of sweat and unwashed body. Eliza and I had been locked in our room hours ago. Despite my desire to escape, I’d come to the conclusion escape was impossible. I’d lain awake for hours, vowing to somehow get us out of here, before finally succumbing to exhaustion. Not I was being accosted by someone. It was dark in the room, obviously still night. Crap. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. How long had I been out? How could I protect my sister if I couldn’t even stay awake to watch over her? Panic surged through me. Was Eliza okay? I reared back, trying to break free from the foul hand over my mouth. But the owner of the hand pressed harder against my mouth, making me gag. A big body slid over the top of mine, smashing me into the mattress. I bucked and squirmed, trying to break loose. My attacker grabbed my hands one at a time, then held them above my head while he crudely rubbed his swollen crotch against me. A soft gasp from across the room made me freeze. Was that Eliza? Were they trying to rape her too? The man on top of me moved the hand away from my mouth and slipped it down my pants, groping me. At the same time, he pressed his disgusting mouth over mine. “No!” Eliza shrieked. “Please, don’t!” Bastards! They were attacking her too! I had to save her! I had to get us out of here. I bit down hard on my attacker’s lip. The man jerked back, then slapped me across the face. I opened my mouth and screamed as loud as I could.

He hit me again. I screamed again, louder. A final hard slap shut me up. I moaned softly, tasting blood in my mouth. My ear rang. Eliza began to sob quietly. “Please, no. Don’t!” The door suddenly crashed in. The light from the hallway spilled into the room, illuminating a large presence as a man slipped into the room. He yanked my attacker off me and slit his throat. I let out a soft gasp and scrambled backward on the bed, watching as my attacker fell to the floor, gurgling, blood oozing out of the wound. My savior stalked to Eliza’s bed and yanked her attacker off her. In a flash, the other man was dead and falling to the floor. Eliza screamed. As the man turned back toward me, I saw his face. He was Hispanic, like the others. I did a double-take. Wait a second. I let out a soft gasp as recognition hit me. Tall. Muscular. Powerful-looking. A dreg. “Tony?” I whispered in shock. The Smuggler. He was an expert at concealing things—especially himself—and slipping them into places unseen. Had he snuck inside this building without detection? “What–?” He glanced at me sharply, a warning in his eyes. Keep quiet. I yanked my mouth shut. What was Tony doing here? Was he one of Enrique’s thugs? No, that didn’t make sense. Tony was a dreg. If Tony was here, then Tracker probably was too.

Relief swept through me. Tracker had come for us. Eliza and I were going to be safe. But why was Tony here? Tony hated me. He wouldn’t risk his life to save me. Would he? Tony yanked me to my feet. “If you hadn’t screamed, it would have taken me longer to find you.” His lips twisted, but it wasn’t a smile. No, Tony didn’t smile. It was more of a snarl. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “Quickly. No more talking. Follow me, and do as I say.” Eliza grabbed my hand, obviously too afraid to argue. I swept my gaze over her, relieved that she was still fully clothed. Tony had stopped our attackers just in time. Tony glanced up and down the corridor, then motioned us to follow him out of the room. I hurried after him, pulling Eliza along, not wanting to get too far behind him. Tony might not like me, but if he was here, then he was doing it for Tracker. Why else would he be here? We reached the main floor. Tony approached the guard at the back entrance and spoke to him in Spanish while Eliza and I hovered together, waiting for Tony’s next instructions. “What’s happening?” Eliza whispered. “I’m scared. Is he going to rape us?” “No,” I assured her softly. “He’s come to free us.” A grunt came from the back entrance. I glanced over in time to see the guard fall to the floor. Tony waved us forward. We hurried after him. “You have to save the other girls,” I whispered. “You can’t leave them behind.”

Tony scowled. “We don’t have time for that.” He shoved open the door. And we went out into the night. Immediately we were surrounded by large male bodies, who swarmed around us. The dregs. I was able to make out Nate’s features in the semi-darkness, along with Ryan’s and Noah’s. They led us forward quickly, urging us across the campus grounds toward the road. Where was Tracker? Was he somewhere close by? Was he even alive? My heart pounding, I glanced around, looking for him. Had he died when the dregs had gone in to save Gordon? Unable to stomach the thought, I pushed it aside. I refused to believe that. Tracker had to be here somewhere. The other dregs wouldn’t have come to free us without Tracker. “We can’t leave the other girls in there,” I said again. “Please. You have to save them.” The dregs paused, exchanging glances. “That’s what Tracker said,” Luke muttered. “He and Jacob were going to free any women they came across.” My heart went wild. I knew it! Tracker was not only here, he was saving the other women, too. “We’ll take care of it,” Ryan said. Then he and Luke slipped away to help Tracker and Jacob. A male voice suddenly shouted at us in Spanish. Several guards charged across the lawn toward us. Bullets whizzed by, too close for comfort. “Get down!” I dove onto the grass, yanking Eliza with me as gunfire erupted all around us. Eliza screamed and I wrapped my arms around her, comforting her as best as I

could. We huddled there, listening to the sounds of violence all around us. Finally the gunfire ceased. Then the sounds of a physical fight reached my ears. Grunts, thuds, groans, smacking sounds. Thwack thwack thwack! I didn’t want Eliza to see, so I put my hands in front of her eyes. “Don’t look.” She shivered against me, clinging tightly to me, her terror palpable. I vowed once I got her out of her, she would never have to witness any more violence ever again. At last the fighting stopped. Big hands wrapped around our arms and yanked us to our feet. Eliza gasped and let out a terrified sob. “Quickly. This way.” The lawn suddenly erupted with bodies that rushed ed us. I stared as all the woman prisoners hurried away, disappearing into the night. The dregs had freed them. Tonight, the dregs had become heroes. “Come on. There’s still plenty of armed guards back there. Let’s get a move on.” The dregs urged us forward and down the road for several blocks. Most of the street lamps had been knocked out to give criminals the darkness they sought to commit their crimes. I caught a glimpse of several of the women fleeing around the corner of a building as we moved past. Finally, we reached a dark parking lot. I spied Tracker’s silver motorcycle parked in between Nate’s Escalade and a red Camaro, so he had to be here somewhere. But where was he? Nate unlocked the Escalade and slipped behind the wheel. Tony practically shoved us inside before climbing into the enger seat. “Get in the very back,” he ordered. Eliza and I quickly scrambled over the middle seat and climbed into the very back of the Escalade, where they’d put up the third seat. Sliding onto the seat, I

buckled Eliza’s seatbelt around her, noting her shocked expression. I buckled my own seat belt and reached over to hold her hand. “It’s okay, Liza. These guys are here to help us. You’re safe now.” She nodded slowly, her eyes wide. “Who are they?” “They’re the dregs,” I whispered. She let out a soft gasp. “The dregs? But I thought they were evil. Why would they save us?” Her expression changed to terror. “Are they going to hurt us now? Rape us? Kill us?” “No,” I assured her, squeezing her hand, wanting to dispel that myth. “The dregs are good guys.” Even Tony. Tony grunted from the front seat as if he’d heard that, but he made no comment. Neither did Nate. The other doors opened and closed as Noah and Logan climbed into the back seat directly in front of Eliza and me. Then the Escalade sped away. Noah glanced back at us. He winked at Eliza. Her eyes widened. She blushed furiously and lowered her gaze. Swallowing hard, she glanced up at him again, eyeing him with big, frightened eyes. Logan glanced back at us. “You ladies okay?” “Yes, thank you,” I answered, holding my sister’s hand tightly in mine. “All of you, thank you.” I glanced at the back of Tony’s head. He’d gotten us out of that building alive. Being Hispanic was probably what had allowed him to sneak amongst them so easily. We had him to thank for rescuing us. He’d gone into the lion’s den, risking his life to save us. “Especially you, Tony,” I said loudly. “Thank you.” He squirmed uncomfortably in the front seat, then slowly turned his head and met my gaze. There was neither hostility nor contempt in his eyes this time. Did he no longer hate me? I could have sworn a light blush stained his skin, but it was too hard to tell in the dark car. Had no one ever thanked him for anything before?

“Really,” I said. “Thank you.” He shrugged and looked away. I’d made him uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that discomfort. That made me smile. Tony wasn’t such a bad guy, after all. “Where’s Tracker?” I met Nate’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “He’s right behind us,” Nate answered. “He and Jacob had already freed most of the other women when Luke and Ryan went back to help. Hang tight, ladies. We’ll get you home soon.” Eliza looked at me with wonder in her eyes. “These guys are really the dregs?” I nodded and smiled. “Yes.” Her face lit up. “They’re all so big and strong and…hot.” She lowered her voice on that last word, but even so, I imagined at least some of the dregs had heard her. She flushed as she glanced at all of them and then back at me and whispered, “Don’t you think?” I chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, they are. Big, strong, handsome manly men. Don’t believe the rumors you hear about these guys. They’re not murderers. They’re heroes.” Silence descended throughout the vehicle. One of the dregs cleared his throat, though I wasn’t sure which one. “Heroes, huh?” Noah chuckled. “You hear that Tony? We’re heroes. You’re a hero.” Tony muttered something softly in Spanish. He could deny it all he wanted, but I could tell that even he was affected by their mission that night. Rather than heading out to kill people, they’d headed out to save people. They may have killed some of the bad guys in the process, but they’d saved Eliza and me. They’d freed all the women prisoners. They’d gone from killers to rescuers.

They were now heroes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Jessica When we embarked from the Escalade back at the garage behind the mansion, Tracker was there. He didn’t say anything to me, but his gaze swept over me critically, as if he was checking to make sure I was okay. His manner was distant, standoffish, so I didn’t rush into his arms and hug him like I desperately wanted to do. Was he pissed at me for what had happened? Was he angry that I’d been the reason Gordon was dead? Would he ever forgive me? He glanced at Eliza then, his gaze narrowing, scrutinizing, before he abruptly turned away. “Who’s he?” Eliza whispered, her voice filled with awe. I swallowed hard. “Tracker.” The man I love. We all headed for the underground maze. The dregs surrounded us, protecting us even now that we were back on their turf. Tracker led the way as we traveled the few yards across the dark forest to the entrance to the tunnel. Eliza held my hand the entire way, her eyes wide and wary. The ghosts swirled closer, their darkness surrounding us. “What is that?” Eliza whispered, a quiver of fear in her voice. Her hand tightened around mine. “It’s just the ghosts,” I responded. “They won’t hurt you.” He eyes went wide. “Ghosts? Seriously?” I chuckled. “Yeah. Ghosts. It’s okay.” We all made our way through the dark maze to the dregs’ apartments. “They can use Gordon’s apartment,” Tracker said, speaking for the first time. He led us to a door that was three down and across the hall from Tracker’s.

The other dregs disbursed. “Thanks again, everyone. You guys were true heroes tonight.” I glanced at each of them, catching their eyes. “All of you.” They all moved off, a few nodding, most obviously uncomfortable with my thanks. Eliza and I entered Gordon’s apartment, glancing around. It was exactly like Tracker’s apartment, except Gordon’s furniture was different. The dregs had removed all his personal belongings, except for a small, potted plant that sat on the kitchen counter beneath a glow light. For some reason, the sight of the little plant made my chest tighten and my eyes fill with tears. “Get cleaned up and get some sleep,” Tracker said gruffly. “I’ll bring some of your clothes.” He left, and no more than a minute or two ed before he returned and thrust some clothes at me. Then he went out and closed the door behind him. I stared at the closed door, hurt by his abruptness. Tracker had saved Eliza. He’d done what he’d said he would do. He didn’t owe me anything and I didn’t owe him anything. Not anymore. I was free to leave. He was free to go back to his life before I’d shown up. I had no reason to stay here anymore. Tracker had no reason to let me stay. My heart clenched. I knew I should leave, but I didn’t want to. I had to at least talk to him. Would he expect us to leave in the morning? Would he kick us out without even telling me goodbye? I shoved my worries aside. I needed to make Eliza comfortable right now, let her know she was safe here. Then I’d go find Tracker and talk to him. Eliza chattered excitedly nearly nonstop about the dregs and how they’d saved us and how handsome they were. e wasI drew her a bath, then left her alone while she got clean. When she emerged about twenty minutes later, I helped her get settled into bed. She needed rest now. Time to recover. She was safe here.

Slowly, she drifted off to sleep. I sat with her for several more minutes, watching her sleep, so thankful she was alive. Leaving her sleeping peacefully, I slipped into the bathroom and took a quick shower. After drying off, I dressed in some of the clothes Tracker had handed to me earlier. Then I checked on Eliza once more. She was still sleeping, and I doubted she would wake any time soon. I went to find Tracker. I tried his apartment first, but he didn’t answer my knock, so I headed for the workout room, hoping I’d find him there. The workout room was alive with activity. Tracker was there, hitting a punching bag. I spied him first, my gaze immediately drawn to him. Nate and Noah were sparring in the ring, dancing around each other, throwing punches and kicks without being lethal. Logan and Luke were lifting weights in the far corner. And Ryan was running on a treill. Only Jacob and Tony were missing from the group. It seemed odd to me that these guys would return from a mission and immediately work out. Was that how they rid themselves of the adrenaline? I headed toward Tracker. The room grew quiet as the other dregs noticed me. I reached Tracker and paused before him. He didn’t even look at me, though he had to know I was there. He kept punching the bag. Pound pound pound pound. Pound pound. Pound. One by one, the other dregs slipped out, leaving us alone. Still, Tracker ignored me, slamming his fists into the bag. Pound pound pound. Pound pound.

His expression was closed off. His eyes emotionless. My heart ached for him. But I didn’t know what to do. “Tracker,” I whispered at last. “Won’t you at least look at me?” He punched the bag again. “Gordon’s dead.” He hit the bag. “But you got your sister back.” Pound. “You’ll be leaving tomorrow.” Pound pound pound. “Just go, Jess. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Pound pound. My chest squeezed. My eyes filled with tears. I swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry about Gordon. I don’t expect you to forgive me. If I could bring him back, I would.” He stopped punching the bag and drew in several deep breaths. Then he stepped toward me, unwrapping the gloves from his hands and tossing them aside. “It wasn’t your fault, Jess. I killed him. Me. I was the one who got him involved. His death rests on my shoulders, not yours.” I shook my head sadly as he stopped before me. “I was the one who came here, who asked for your help. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive.” Tracker sighed loudly. “Stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault.” I stared up at him as the tears fell freely now, running down my cheeks. It was my fault. Didn’t he see that? “I’m sorry I snuck off without you,” I whispered. “But I couldn’t endanger anyone else. If I’d known Gordon was going to die…” I broke off, swallowing hard. “I never would have come here. I hope you can forgive me someday.”

He drew in a ragged breath. “Fuck that. There’s nothing to forgive. Tomorrow you and your sister will go on your way and you won’t have to think about the dregs ever again.” Pain exploded in my chest. He didn’t want me to stay. What had I expected? “What if I don’t want to leave?” I whispered. “What if I want to stay with you?” He groaned softly. “Jess. You don’t want me. You deserve so much better. What kind of life could I give you? I have a bounty on my head. Life with me will never be safe.” “I don’t care, Tracker.” I drew in another deep breath and stared up into his eyes. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I wasn’t sure if he would believe me. “Please. Please don’t send us away.” God, had I been reduced to this? Begging? How pathetic was I? He squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re not making this easy for me.” And I wasn’t about to make it any easier. I leaned up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. I had no pride right now. He opened his eyes and let out a soft growl, yanking me against him. He slid his mouth over mine, kissing me hungrily. “My brave little Jessica,” he praised between kisses. “So selfless. So beautiful. Risking yourself to save your sister. What the fuck were you thinking?” He nipped at my neck, making me gasp at the sharp sting. “You could have been killed. Or raped. Or worse.” I pulled his mouth back to mine, needing the connection. “I know. But you would do the same for someone you care about. You would do the same for one of the other dregs.” He stilled, lifting his head. “He’s dead. My best friend is dead.” My heart twisted as I looked into his eyes, seeing the grief he couldn’t hide. “I’m so sorry.” I hugged him tightly. “I’m here for you, Tracker. Always.” He groaned. Then he caught my mouth in a fierce kiss, walking me backward until I hit the wall. His hands roamed over me, slipping inside my shirt to fondle

my breasts, tweaking my nipples and making me moan. I lifted my arms and he pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it aside. He gazed at my breasts, his nostrils flaring. “So fucking beautiful.” He lowered his head and suckled first one breast, then the other. I gasped and moaned and squirmed beneath the assault, loving every moment of it. Every time Tracker touched me, it was beautiful. Even this urgency, this roughness was incredible. He yanked at my pants, pulling them down. I kicked them aside. His eyes darkened as his gaze swept down my body. He came back to me, kissing me hard, thrusting his tongue in my mouth. There was no gentleness this time. Just need. And I couldn’t deny him. Even if he hurt me, I wouldn’t make him stop. He needed this escape, this release. His best friend had just died. Because of me. I slipped my hands up inside his shirt and stroked his muscular torso as he kept kissing me, deeply, almost desperately. He leaned back, palming my breasts, a mixture of lust and torment in his eyes. Then he lifted me up against the wall, kissing me fiercely as he ed his body with mine in a hard thrust. I gasped and moved with him, the orgasm slamming through me almost instantly, so powerful, so intense, I could do nothing but cling to him as he found his own release. It was over quickly. Tracker held me there for several long moments, breathing heavily, our bodies still ed. Though it had been a little rough and I was sore, I didn’t regret it and I certainly didn’t blame Tracker for using me to help deal with his pain. He’d needed me and I was here. If he would let me, I’d stay with him forever. He slowly lowered me to the ground. He kissed me once more, softly, then stepped back and fixed his pants. Reaching down, he snatched up my shirt and my leggings and held them out to me. Then his expression changed to horror. “Goddammit,” he hissed. “I didn’t use a condom.” His gaze slammed to mine. “Are you on birth control?” Heat crept into my cheeks. “No.”

He turned away from me, pacing several feet, then coming back. He swore again. His face shifted back into its cold mask. He paused in his pacing, skewering me with his gaze. “If you’re pregnant, I want you to terminate it.” He stalked out of the workout room and slammed the door behind him. What the hell? I stared after him in stunned disbelief. Then I slid down the wall until I hit the floor, holding my clothes against me. If you’re pregnant, I want you to terminate it. I would do no such thing. How could he say something so insensitive? So cruel? That was murder. If I was pregnant, I would never kill my baby. Tracker could go to hell if he thought I would even consider something like that. Asshole. I slowly pulled my shirt over my head as tears tracked down my cheeks. His sudden withdrawal, his callousness hurt. Where had it come from? Was he afraid of babies? Of fatherhood? Or something else? I slid my leggings on and rose to my feet, wiping at my tears. Even though I’d been a willing participant in what had just happened, right now, after those hurtful words, I felt used. Abused. And sore from his roughness. But my heart hurt most of all. That’s what I got for falling for a dreg. Why had I let myself fall for a man who was incapable of love? Why was I so stupid? I had Eliza back, but I’d be leaving with a broken heart. I was such a fool. He expected me to leave tomorrow, to take Eliza and never return. But where would we go? Don’t beat yourself up for believing in him, Jess. He does care for you. You know he does. I sniffled, wiping at another tear. Maybe so, but he would never love me, no

matter how much I loved him. I opened the door, deciding to go back to my sister to lick my wounds for the night. I would see Tracker in the morning and tell him goodbye, then take my sister and leave. He would never know the truth about how I felt about him. I was getting my pride back now. A little too late. I stepped out into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind me. Silence surrounded me. Everyone must have gone to bed. I headed down the dark corridor toward Gordon’s apartment where Eliza slept. Sensing sudden movement behind me, I jerked around, my heart in my throat. A thick, muscular arm came out of nowhere, wrapping around me like a vice, holding my arms against my sides and yanking me back against a hard body. I opened my mouth to scream, but another hand covered my mouth and nose with a wet rag, holding it in place. I gasped and sputtered, turning my head to the side, choking on the moisture-soaked cloth. I tried to breathe, tried to scream for help, but all I managed to do was inhale whatever drug was on the rag into my system faster. No. I squirmed and fought. Eliza. I kicked back, but my foot didn’t connect with anything. Tracker. I tried once more to scream, but my mouth wouldn’t move. My head lolled back, my neck too weak to hold it up anymore. “Easy now. Just relax,” a voice whispered. A vaguely familiar voice. Who was he? Then everything went black.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Tracker I went back to my apartment and snatched up my sketchpad. Trying to release the demons inside me, I began to draw. Jessica. Her beautiful, expressive face. Her gorgeous hazel eyes. I would never tire of drawing her. She was everything that was good and kind in this world. Jessica had let me use her to seek release from the demons haunting me, from the overwhelming pain of Gordon’s death, and I’d taken advantage of that. I’d used her. Callous bastard that I was. I’d used her hard. I’d fucked her against the damn wall. I’d needed her so much that I stupidly hadn’t used a condom. I was an idiot. A Goddamn moron. And then I’d walked out like the cold prick that I was, telling her to terminate any resulting pregnancy. The very idea of fatherhood, of tiny babies…it just couldn’t happen. Ever. I had no intention of ever becoming a father. What kind of life could I offer a kid? And if The Company ever found out about Jessica…I couldn’t even contemplate what they might do to her. Sudden, unexpected longing swept through me. A life with Jessica. A family with Jessica filled me with so much want it nearly choked me. To have a son or a daughter of my own… That was nothing more than fantasy. I could never have that kind of life. I wasn’t worthy of that kind of happiness. I was destined to be alone. Though I hadn’t stayed long enough to see Jessica’s reaction to my cruel words, I had no doubt that I’d hurt her. She would be leaving in the morning and I would never see her again. It was best that I gave her a reason to hate me before she left. I’m sure it worked. I imagined she was cussing me out right now. I began drawing her face the way I imagined she was feeling right now. Those big gorgeous eyes filled with hurt. Those soft, kissable lips parted in shock at my cruelty.

My chest squeezed. It hurt, thinking of her in pain. Because of me. It had been a long time since I’d hurt. Since I’d let myself feel anything. But the moment she’d entered my life, all of that had changed. I felt things now. I felt everything, whether I wanted to or not. She’d changed me in more ways than one. She was turning me into a human again. Making me weak. And God help me, I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted her to stay with me. Forever. What if I don’t want to leave? What if I want to stay with you? Her words came back to me, so heartfelt, so innocent. She had no idea what a life with me would be like. But I did. And I couldn’t do that to her. I was loco. Fucked up in the head. I was too dangerous. I might unintentionally harm her someday, and I couldn’t bear the thought of ever hurting her. So, I had to let her go. I finished drawing her, detailing the expression on her beautiful face, the hurt that I knew she was feeling right now. I tried to ignore the pain in my own chest at the thought of how cruel I’d been to her. I willed her to come to my apartment. Willed her to wrap her arms around me and tell me she forgave me for my cruelty. God, I wanted to hold her one last time before she left. Wanted to cuddle her tightly against me while I slept. She was the only thing that could stop the nightmares. Without her, how would I cope? You don’t deserve her. Let her go. You coped without her before and you’ll cope again when she leaves. I drew for hours, sketching Jessica’s beautiful face with several different expressions. Then I drew her gorgeous, perfectly shaped body. Gradually, I began to relax as I drew. She soothed me. Calmed the rage and the demons inside me. I needed her. Whoa...What? I paused in my drawing.

Need was a powerful word. Need meant necessity. Need meant something you had to have in order to survive. I’d never needed anyone before. I’d never needed anything but food, water, and air. I needed her. It was true. I needed Jess. Without her, I couldn’t heal. Without her, I was nothing but this empty shell of a man. She helped chase the demons away. She showed me gentleness, tenderness. She’d shown me what it was like to have a woman care for me. Please come to me, Jess. I need you. But she never did. Go find her. Tell her you’re sorry. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. As much as I wanted her to stay, she had to go. I had to send her on her way. She was better off without me. And so I stayed in my room, drawing her. Missing her. Wanting her. And then it was a new day. It was time for her to leave. Time for me to say goodbye to the only woman who’d ever gotten through my walls. The only woman I’d ever cared for. But when I stepped out of my apartment, bracing myself for a painful goodbye, I was met with a frantic Eliza, tears streaming down her young cheeks. Jessica was gone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Jessica The bouncing jarred me awake. I blinked, glancing around. It was dark out. The scent of the Loblolly pines filled the air, which meant I was in the forest somewhere. My senses picked up the sound of branches crunching beneath someone’s feet. I shifted, trying to move, and discovered my arms were tied behind my back. I squirmed, only to realize what the bouncing was. I’d been tossed over the shoulders of a large man who trudged forward through the forest. His arm gripped the back of my legs, holding me in place as my head swayed with his movements. Terror slammed through me. I came fully awake and began to squirm wildly against my captor, trying to break away. He kept walking, but his arm tightened around me. “If you fight, I’ll just drug you again, Jessica.” I stilled. That voice. I knew that voice. Deep. Raspy. Scratchy. Jacob. I’d only been around Jacob a few times, but I’d never forget his strange, raspy voice. Why had he taken me? Dizziness swam in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and drew in several deep breaths. “Jacob? Why did you kidnap me? I don’t understand.” He jolted, pausing a moment in the forest. He shifted my weight, then continued on. He didn’t respond. “Why, Jacob?” I persisted, opening my eyes. “Can you at least tell me why?”

“I didn’t want to do this, but I had no choice.” What did that mean? Had someone forced him to kidnap me? Why? “Tracker’s your friend,” I said, dangling over his shoulder as he walked. “Why would you betray him like this?” He let out a snort. “Trust me, I didn’t want to. But I had no choice.” He wouldn’t speak anymore, no matter how much I badgered him. He walked. And walked. Until the sun came up. Then we came out of the trees. I craned my head, trying to see around him, trying to see where we were. A car door slammed. Footsteps approached. Jacob flipped me off his back and set me on my feet. I wobbled slightly, then stood tall, trying to be brave. He gripped my arm in his large hand to keep me from fleeing. A group of men approached, all dressed in military garb. One of them carried a small child in his arms. I stared. The men were huge, muscular, like the dregs. Who were they? The older man in front with gray hair—their leader?—nodded at Jacob. “This is Tracker’s woman?” Jacob nodded. “Yeah. This is her. Now I want what you promised me.” The older man perused me critically, his gray eyes cold and calculating. My breath caught as I stared into the man’s expressionless face, at his harsh features. He had to be in his late sixties or early seventies, old enough to be my grandfather. He had a full head of gray hair and was tall, big and intimidating. He seemed familiar somehow. Had I ever met him before?

He turned to Jacob. “You did well, Jacob.” He turned and motioned to the man who held the child. The man stepped forward, handing the little girl to Jacob. “Go now. There will no longer be a bounty on your head. You’re free to live your life as you choose.” Jacob nodded curtly, hugging the little girl to him. I didn’t miss the tears in his eyes. “Thank you, sir.” Two of the men stepped forward, taking my arms. Jacob walked away without a backward glance, carrying the child with him. His daughter? I was conflicted. Part of me wanted to scream at him for betraying Tracker, while the other part of me sympathized. Had they threatened his child to make him kidnap me and hand me over? “You’re a traitor!” I shouted. “Tracker will come after you for this! He’ll hunt you down and kill you!” Jacob didn’t respond. He just kept walking until he disappeared into the trees. As I watched him leave, my heart pinched. It wasn’t his fault. These guys had found his weakness and used it against him, forcing him to betray Tracker. I couldn’t blame him. The older man chuckled, snapping my attention back to him. “You are correct, my dear. Tracker and the others will hunt Jacob down and kill him. Jacob might be able to hide for a while, but he’ll always be on the run from them, and they are more dangerous than any bounty hunter. I know, because I trained them.” I pulled my gaze back to my new captor, realization creeping in. “Who are you?” His cold gray eyes sized me up again. “General Waters. Founder of The Company.” A chill swept through me. This was the man who’d tortured Tracker and the others, turned them into the soldiers they’d become. This was the man who was responsible for Tracker’s nightmares, for damaging Tracker’s mind. For making Tracker kill. An intense hatred shot through me. I wanted to claw his eyes out. I wanted to pummel him with my fists. I wanted to tie him to a chair and torture him, rip his fingernails off and cut off his appendages.

This man was evil through and through. And I was his prisoner. I swallowed hard and lifted my chin. “What are you going to do with me?” He chuckled. “Well, that all depends on Tracker. For now, you’re the bait.” Fear slithered in. “Bait for what?” “For Tracker, of course. If you’re truly his woman like Jacob said, then Tracker will come for you. He won’t be able to resist.” Dread took hold, stealing my breath. Why did they want Tracker so badly? “Why? What is your plan? What are you going to do?” He motioned to the soldiers, who shoved me toward a waiting SUV. “For now, we wait for Tracker to come. And then…it all depends on him. He will determine your fate.” I had no doubt Tracker would come for me. He would feel duty bound to save me. But at what cost to him?

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Tracker Jessica’s captor—Jacob—had taken her through the forest. I’d had a sharp, detailed vision of Jacob carrying Jessica through the woods as soon as I’d stepped out into the corridor to speak to Eliza. Shock had slammed into me, Jacob’s betrayal slicing deep. How could he do something like this? I was going to kill that bastard, make him suffer long and slow. I’d trusted him. Implicitly. Hell, he’d been there beside me, taking Gordon’s place as my partner, helping me to free those women from the Mexican gang. His betrayal stung. Jacob didn’t bother to hide his tracks, which led me to believe he’d been in a hurry to leave and not concerned about leaving a trail. Or he’d intentionally left a trail. Had he wanted me to find her quickly? Fortunately, this was the type of tracking I excelled at. I felt at home in the forest, in my element here in the woods. I would find Jess. Guaranteed. I followed the path to an opening at the other side of the forest. I knelt, checking the dirt road. Tire tracks. Vehicles had been parked here recently. They’d taken Jessica away by car. All the other dregs had ed in the search as soon as it became apparent she was missing. She would never leave her sister behind, so I’d known she’d been stolen even before the vision had struck me. Eliza waited for us back at the mansion now. I couldn’t disappoint the poor girl. I would bring Jessica back to her. Alive. Why would Jacob kidnap Jess? He was one of us. If I expected any of the dregs to turn on me, I would have expected Tony. He hated women. But he and Jess had reached an understanding, and he grudgingly respected her now. But Jacob? It didn’t make sense to me. Jacob had been alone since his partner had been murdered during our escape last year. He’d withdrawn into himself after that, rarely ing the other dregs for anything. We’d all respected his need for privacy, his desire to be alone. Maybe we shouldn’t have. Maybe we should have forced him to endure our company, to spar with us, to just hang out and be a part of our group. Had letting

him go off alone pushed him into doing this, whatever “this” was? Why would Jacob take Jess? Unless someone had forced him into it? And then it hit me with a clarity that was startling. The Company. They had Jessica. I felt it in my gut. They’d taken her to get to me. But why? And then I saw her. It was just a flash. A vision of Jessica in a jail cell much like the one I’d been held in for so many years. Then it was gone. Son-of-a-bitch! The General had her. I opened my eyes and stared down the empty dirt road where the vehicles had gone. He’d taken her to get to me. He needed me for something. Nate came up beside me, following my gaze. The other dregs moved forward, glancing around. “It’s The Company.” I voiced my thoughts aloud, causing everyone to turn to me. “They’ve got her.” Nate sighed loudly and shook his head. “Goddammit.” Tony let out a string of Spanish swear words. “They must have promised Jacob his freedom,” Ryan murmured. “Or something.” “He’s an idiot,” Luke replied. “Doesn’t he know we will hunt him until he’s dead? That traitor!” I snorted. So true. Once I got Jess back, I’d go after Jacob. He would die for this. “Why would he have them meet here?” Logan asked. “It’s only a few miles from our hideout. Why didn’t he just show The Company where we were hiding and give us all up?”

There was a moment of silence as everyone considered that. “Because he didn’t want to betray all of us,” Noah said quietly. He glanced back at me. “Just you. And I honestly don’t think he did it to betray you. Maybe he felt threatened by Jessica’s presence because she’s not one of us. Or maybe The General offered him something he couldn’t refuse if he handed her over.” “Ryan’s right,” Tony muttered. “They must have offered him his freedom.” Everyone exchanged glances. We all wanted our freedom. Desperately. That’s why we’d escaped. But as long as there were bounties on our heads, we would never be free. “It’s me they want.” I glanced at each of them. “Not you guys. I have to go after her. See what they want.” “You sure you want to do that?” Luke asked. “Whatever they want you for, you know you won’t walk away from.” “They’ve got Jess.” I swallowed hard. And she was worth dying for. I couldn’t let them hurt her. “Then we’re going with you.” Nate held my gaze. Ryan nodded. “We can’t let you go alone.” “We leave no man behind,” Luke added. Noah and Logan exchanged glances, then they nodded, too. They all had my back. To the bitter end. They would risk their lives for Jess. For me. “So what’s the plan?” Logan asked. I drew in a deep breath, puffed it back out. “I give myself up in exchange for Jessica’s release. Then you guys do your best to get me out of there before they kill me.”

“What if they don’t want to kill you? What if they want you for something else?” Noah eyed me with genuine concern. I understood his concern. I felt it myself. Dying wasn’t as scary as whatever they might truly want me for. But I would do this. For Jess. I sighed. “Then I guess you try to get me out of there before they do whatever it is they plan to do to me.” Nate clapped me on the back. “It won’t be easy, man. But it’s what we were trained for, right?” The others nodded their agreement. “Let’s do this.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Jessica They locked me in a jail cell. Then left me alone. The cell was small, with nothing more than a bunkbed, a toilet, and a sink. I had no idea what they were going to do to me, but I feared whatever they had planned, it would be something that would hurt Tracker. I needed answers. I needed to understand why these people wanted Tracker back. When we first arrived at this place, I used my photographic memory, ing every turn—left or right—how many doors I ed down each hallway, how many steps before and after each turn, where the restrooms were located, how many personnel were about, how many were men and how many were women. I stored all of this information in my brain. When it came time to escape, I would find my way out. I would make my way to freedom. The General came to visit me at noon, bringing me a paper plate with a tuna sandwich. The guards opened my cell and let him in. A guard placed a folding chair near the bars for The General to sit, then locked the cell behind him. The General came forward, holding the plate out to me. I didn’t want to take it, but the cold gleam in his eye told me if I refused, I might not like the consequences, so I took the food from him and waited. He smiled and sat in the folding chair, eyeing me closely. He waved his arm at me. “Eat. Then I will answer any questions you have.” I didn’t want to eat. But I wanted answers, so I took a hesitant bite of the sandwich. Chewed. Swallowed. The General watched me, making me uncomfortable with that cold gaze. I forced myself to finish the sandwich, then set the empty plate in the sink. I lifted my gaze to his. He grinned. “Go ahead. Ask away.” I glared at him. “Why do you want Tracker now if you tried to kill him before?”

He leaned back on the folding chair and crossed one leg over the other. “For several reasons. One, because Tracker’s special. He shares the best of my DNA. Two, because of a new drug that could heal him. And three, because of you. You’re the key to the future.” Because Tracker’s special. He shares the best of my DNA. For some reason, that stuck out more than anything else. What the hell did that mean? Then it hit me like a slap to the face. “Oh my God,” I whispered. “You’re Tracker’s father.” That’s why he seemed familiar. He nodded. “Smart girl.” “Does Tracker know that?” The General shook his head. “Not yet. But he’s about to learn the truth about everything.” What was going on here? What truth? “I don’t understand. The truth about what? And how do I change anything?” The General linked his hands together over his crossed legs. “Every one of my soldiers is an experiment. Each one goes through different tests, different studies, different trials to determine their strong points and their weaknesses. Each is recruited at a different age to see how they adjust to the rigorous training involved in becoming a soldier. The younger a boy is at recruitment, the easier it is to mold him into what I want. Tracker was my youngest recruit at the time. Since then, I’ve recruited younger boys. I decided to let him stay with his mother until he turned twelve, and then I took him away. With years of brainwashing and memory-suppressing drugs, I made him forget his life before ing The Company. I turned him into the best soldier I possibly could. He is so much like me, and I must say I’m very proud of him.” He smiled, but it wasn’t a genuine smile. It was a smile filled with pure evil. “Unfortunately, a bullet shattered his thigh bone and he had to be discharged. Even with my superior DNA in his blood, and all the experimental drugs we pumped into his body to try to make him stronger, his bone wouldn’t heal back together. Unfortunately, he’s still

human, and the human body is weak. I had planned to dispose of him along with the other discharges a year ago. “But they defied me. All but three of them escaped that day. The brainwashing must not have worked as well as I’d thought, for I’d trained those soldiers to never go against an order, to never defy me. But that day, they did. When I ordered them to stand down, to let themselves be shot, they refused. They fought back. And they escaped.” I silently applauded Tracker and the other dregs. I was happy they’d gotten away that day. If they hadn’t, I would never have met Tracker. “I’ll bet that pissed you off.” The General’s gaze narrowed on me. “You have to understand that I can’t have my wounded soldiers roaming freely in society. They’re too dangerous. I can’t risk the repercussions from the government if one of the dregs goes on a rampage and starts killing innocent people. I can’t afford to have my contract revoked. I provide the government with the best killers to get the jobs gone. And once a soldier is discharged, he is exterminated.” “Not this time,” I whispered proudly. “They got away.” The General’s eyes hardened. “I had bounties issued for each of their heads. I knew eventually someone would spot them and kill them. But the sneaky bastards disappeared. I must have trained them too well. There were no sightings of them for nearly a year. Then, a few weeks ago, Tracker was spotted. I wouldn’t have done anything except order him to be exterminated on sight, except that a few months before that, an experimental new drug became available for testing. A drug that purportedly could heal and regrow shattered bone. If I could inject Tracker with this drug, his leg could heal, and I could put him—my best soldier—back out into the field. And I could use the drug to heal other wounded soldiers.” No. This man couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t force Tracker to go back to work for him. I wouldn’t allow it. I wouldn’t let him torture Tracker or use him like a lab rat ever again. “Tracker will never agree to that,” I argued. “You tortured him. You abused him. Why would he come back to that?”

The General chuckled softly. “Because of you.” My breath caught. He was right. Tracker would come for me. He would give himself up to see me safe. My intense hatred for this man grew. “So you torture innocent boys, brainwash them and turn them into monsters, and then when they get hurt and aren’t of any use to you anymore, you kill them.” I looked him in the eye. “You’re a monster!” He shrugged. “Tracker’s mother said the same thing right before I killed her.” He shook his head. “It was such a pity, too. Killing such a beautiful woman. But she had to go. She would have come after me and tried to find her son. And I couldn’t have that now, could I?” I glanced away, focusing on the cracks in the concrete floor beneath my feet. “So what do I have to do with any of this? How do I change things?” He uncrossed his legs, unfolded his hands and set them on his knees. “I’m getting to that. My soldiers are taught not to feel, not to experience emotions. It makes them the perfect killers. A man without a conscious won’t hesitate to kill.” He paused, his gaze holding mine. “When Jacob visited his daughter a few months ago, I was waiting. I knew he would show up eventually. I had a little chat with him and convinced him to cooperate. He was reluctant at first, but finally agreed. When he told me Tracker had a woman staying with him recently, I had to find out why, because that was so unlike Tracker. He was one of my toughest soldiers, never showing any emotion. He’d been taught not to feel anything, yet somehow, you made him fall for you. One of my soldiers discovered he had feelings. Could it be true? So I researched you. You’re a smart woman, Jessica. So certainly you can see that Tracker is worth more to me now alive, not only because of the new drug that could heal him, but because of you.” “I don’t understand.” What was he trying to say? “Tracker cares for you. You are his weakness. He never cared too much about visiting the prostitutes that were provided to any soldier who requested one. He never took an interest in my program. But now that he’s fallen for you, you are the key to the future.” I still didn’t know what he was talking about. How was I the key to anything?

“So I changed the bounty on his head, offered a hundred grand for anyone who brought him to me alive.” My stomach roiled. Would Jacob collect on that bounty now? Jacob was a traitor. “So Jacob has been spying on Tracker for a few months?” The General contemplated me for a moment. “Yes. Just since the new drug became available.” “So in your ‘little chat’ with Jacob, did you also kidnap his daughter? Is that how you made him turn on Tracker?” The General’s lips twisted into that fake, ugly smile. “Yes. I had to use the child as leverage. Jacob impregnated a prostitute. But luckily for the child, it was a girl, so she wasn’t recruited into the program. We only accept males.” “You recruit any babies that are born to the prostitutes?” I asked in disbelief. The General nodded. “Of course, my dear. We recruit children from wherever we can find them. And a child that is the offspring of one of the soldiers already contains the right DNA for the program, so naturally we keep them.” My stomach roiled. “So you used Jacob’s child to convince him to betray Tracker. You’re heartless.” The General shrugged. “Everyone has a weakness. And now that I’ve discovered Tracker’s weakness, I have him right where I want him.” I forgave Jacob. He’d done what he’d had to do to save his daughter. I would betray anyone if it kept my sister safe. Would the other dregs do the same? Betray one of their own in exchange for their child’s protection? Would Tracker forgive Jacob for what he’d done? “Could you be pregnant, my dear?” The General’s words jerked me out of my thoughts like a bucket of cold water splashing in my face. “What?” I blanched, my hand automatically flying protectively to my stomach.

“No, of course not.” But I could very well be pregnant. Tracker hadn’t used a condom last night. Oh my God. The right DNA. I understood what he was talking about now. “Now are you beginning to understand?” The General asked. “Tracker’s child is the future. I wanted all along to use Tracker’s DNA, my DNA, to create stronger soldiers, but he was never interested in the program. I encouraged him to visit the prostitutes, to share his genes, to create outstanding baby soldiers to train. But he refused. Yet you made him care for you, and Tracker has never cared for anyone before, because I taught him not to. That means you’re special to him. His biggest weakness. And that’s why you are so important to me. He will do whatever I ask in order to keep you safe. He has a genuine weakness. And I can use that weakness to make him behave.” “You’re sick!” I backed away from him, repulsed by what he was saying. “If you think I would ever hand over my baby to you, you’re delusional! And why would you need Tracker’s child, anyway? Why can’t you just create test tube babies or whatever?” He sighed. “Because it doesn’t work. We tried that. None of the test tube babies survived beyond the first trimester, no matter how much care was taken to ensure their survival. Sometimes when you play God, you don’t get the results you want. We need naturally created children with strong DNA. Tracker was my best soldier. With this new experimental drug, he can become my best soldier once again. He can help me train others. And because he desires you, he can help produce future soldiers created from the best DNA out there.” This guy was demented. Did he seriously think Tracker would have sex with me just to create these baby soldiers The General desired? Tracker wouldn’t do that. He’d probably tell The General to fuck off. “Tracker will never agree to that,” I whispered. Was that why Tracker had been so disgusted when he realized he hadn’t used a condom? Was that why he’d ordered me to terminate the pregnancy if I ended up being pregnant? Because he’d feared this very thing? “Oh, there’s more, my dear. You are a major part of this now. When Tracker’s

superior DNA is combined with yours, it will produce the perfect soldier.” “Pfft. How is that?” I demanded. “There’s nothing special about my DNA.” The General smiled again, that evil smirk. “That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. Not all of our experiments were performed on boys we abducted. We also did inhouse testing. Lots of in-house testing. Your father was one of my former soldiers who was exterminated after discharge. You were one of the offspring of those in-house experiments, but since you were a girl, you were allowed to leave and live with your mother after you were born. All females are either returned to their mothers, adopted out, or extinguished.” I stared at him, shock leaving me momentarily frozen. What? “My father was one of your soldiers? I was the result of one of your experiments?” He nodded. “Why do you think you and your sister are so far apart in age? Your mother didn’t visit the facility after you were born. She was too busy raising you to come back. Your father didn’t see her again for almost eight years. Then he asked to see his daughter, so I allowed him to visit you and your mother one day. He spent the night with your mother, and your sister was conceived. Not more than a year later, he was injured and extinguished.” My head spun. This was too much. “Did my mother know about these experiments? Was she one of your prostitutes?” “Yes.” My legs wobbled. I was more like my mother than I wanted to it. She’d fallen in love with a soldier—my father. And I’d fallen in love with an ex-soldier —Tracker. When my father died, my mother, in her grief, had turned to drugs and other men. And then she’d taken her own life. I’d hated her for that, resented her for leaving me alone to care for Eliza. My heart pinched for her now, sympathy tugging at me. She’d been weak, letting her love for my father destroy her. What would I do if I lost Tracker? Would my love for him destroy me? The thought of losing him was too painful to even contemplate. I drew in a deep breath, slowly puffed it out.

“Did my mother really commit suicide?” The General sighed. “Yes, believe it or not, she took her own life. She was in love with your father and killed herself after he was terminated.” My anger returned in a rush. “So you’re the reason I was forced to raise my sister on my own!” The General was the reason Eliza would never know her father. He eyed me with those cold gray eyes. “Indeed. But you finding your way to Tracker was a blessing in disguise. I never expected things to happen the way they did.” “Was I born here in this facility?” I couldn’t resist asking. Tracker and I had more in common than we’d thought, both being part of The General’s sick attempt to create a perfect soldier. I felt the blood drain from my face. “Dear God, are we related somehow?” My stomach churned at the thought. The General rose from the chair. “No, you were not born here, and no, you and Tracker are not related in any way.” He paused, his gaze narrowing on me. “The experimental drugs are now wearing off. The dregs are probably starting to their pasts now. They are starting to feel again, to experience normal human emotions. Which is probably why Tracker was able to fall for you. I expect Tracker will be here soon, and that he will do exactly what I say. Because he knows if he doesn’t, you will be tortured. And if Tracker still refuses, then you will die.” “Even if I’m pregnant?” I couldn’t resist asking. “You’ll kill me if I’m carrying Tracker’s child?” How badly did The General want my baby, assuming I was pregnant? What lengths would he go to, to get his hands on Tracker’s child? The General paused. “I don’t imagine it will come to that. Tracker won’t want you to be hurt, so he will do whatever I say.” He turned away from me. The guard opened the cell and removed the folding chair, closing the cell and locking me in again. Alone. The General turned and met my gaze through the bars. “Why?” I persisted quietly. “Why Tracker? And why does it have to be his

child? Can’t you just impregnate women yourself and leave Tracker alone?” He chuckled softly. “I have many, many sons, my dear. Most of them were superior soldiers at one time, but I’ve always been a bit partial to Tracker. I’m pretty sure you’ve met some of my other sons: Nate, Logan, Noah, Luke, Ryan and Tony.” I gasped. “Oh my God. They are all Tracker’s brothers? What about Gordon? And Jacob?” “Gordon was a street kid we recruited. Jacob was an orphan abandoned by his prostitute mother. Neither of them were mine, but still, very good soldiers.” He paused, appearing lost in memory, then he shook his head and looked at me again. “But, I digress here…where was I? Oh yes, you wanted to know why I’m not impregnating women anymore. Well, I am an old man now. My interests no longer include sex. As the favorite of my offspring, it is now Tracker’s duty to reproduce.” This guy was deranged. I wasn’t even sure if I believed everything he was telling me. “Why do you even need more soldiers? You’re getting old. You’re probably about to die, anyway, aren’t you? Cancel your government contract and retire. Let me go and leave Tracker alone.” He tsked. “No, I’m not about to die. I have longevity in my genes, and so do all my sons. And I can’t leave Tracker alone. Not now. I have to see if this new drug works. And I have to see if a child of his grows to be stronger, tougher, better than he is. Tracker’s son could be the soldier of the future.” Was this guy serious? Did he really think he could “breed” the perfect soldier? “You’ve lost your mind.” The General smirked. “When Tracker arrives, I’ll let him know what I expect of him. If he wants you to live, then he’ll obey.” I blanched, fighting back the urge to reach through the bars and scratch my fingernails down The General’s smug face.

He turned away. “Think about what I said, my dear. If Tracker cooperates, you’ll get to go home soon.” “And Tracker?” I couldn’t resist asking. “Will you ever let him leave?” The General turned back to me with a cold gleam in his eye. “When Tracker finds out he’s my son, he’ll want to stay and do whatever he can to please me.” With that, The General turned and walked away, his footfalls echoing down the corridor. I sank to the floor and put my face in my hands. Don’t come here, Tracker. Please, stay away. They’ll destroy you. This was what Gordon had meant when he said I would be what destroyed Tracker. Because I knew in my heart Tracker would come. And he would willingly die to try to set me free.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Tracker The Company’s headquarters was stationed in Atlanta, Georgia in the northern, treed section of Grant Park not far from the zoo. From the outside, the building looked like a warehouse, but was actually a prison and torture camp where General Waters conducted all of his experiments. The building was inaccessible to the public, and in fact, was so well hidden in the trees that the general public wasn’t even aware of its existence. Security was tight at The Company’s headquarters, the building heavily guarded. No one got inside unless they were allowed in. I knew General Waters had Jessica, and I now had a suspicion why he’d taken her. I had intentionally resisted all those women The General had paraded in front of me during my employment with The Company. I had known if I’d shown the slightest interest, he would have forced me to try to impregnate them in his sick attempt to create the “perfect soldier”. He’d told me over and over that I was his favorite soldier, his most perfect creation, and that I should help him with his research by doing my best to create more perfect soldiers like me. He had ranted again and again that my DNA was the best he’d seen and that I could help him achieve his goal of creating the perfect solider. But I had resisted at all cost. I chose my own sex partners, thank you very much, and I certainly didn’t share who I bedded with The General. Jessica might not be what I’d originally imagined the perfect woman to look like —big breasts, full hips, a shapely figure. No, she was so much better. I loved her slimness, her small, perky breasts, her gently rounded hips and tiny tummy. Her big, expressive hazel eyes that made me want to drown in their gorgeous depths. That sexy mouth that was so damn kissable. I loved her strength. Her courage. Her kindness. Her goodness. Jessica in the flesh was far more beautiful than any imagined “beauty” I’d ever drawn. Jessica was my reality of the perfect woman. Sure, she had her imperfections, but when I looked at her, I didn’t see those. My heart swelled into this aching, throbbing thing whenever I looked at Jess. She had not only messed with my head, she’d messed with my heart, with my soul. She definitely made me weak. She didn’t know I’d completely lost myself when she was in my arms, that I’d

forgotten all my worries, all the nightmares, all the horrible things I’d done, and let myself go for the first time ever. It had been an incredible feeling—letting myself go. I hadn’t known sex could be so amazing, so mind-blowing, so perfect. Or that I could connect so deeply with another human being. I knew instinctively it would be that way only with her and no one else. I didn’t want anyone but her. Ever. I wasn’t about to involve myself in The General’s sick, twisted madness—then, or now. I refused to be a part of his experiments. I refused to bring a child into this world, just so The General could torture that child. The man was a lunatic. A sadistic freak who thrived on torturing others, making them break. Messing with their DNA, adding animal genes to their bodies in an attempt to make them stronger. There was a reason why he conducted his experiments close to the zoo. It gave him easy access to the DNA of the animals he needed. I, myself, had animal DNA in me, though I didn’t know all the different kinds he’d injected into me. I knew firsthand the extent of his sickness, for I’d witnessed it time and time again. I’d been subjected to it time and time again. In his attempts to create the “perfect soldier” General Waters had killed more people than he’d saved. I wouldn’t even be coming back here right now if the man didn’t have Jessica. Jacob must have told The General about Jessica. That was the only way he could have known. Despite his madness, Waters was a smart man. He’d discovered my weakness, and he would use it to exploit me, to make me bend to his will. I would submit to his wishes. I would do whatever he wanted. As long as he didn’t harm her. But the moment she was free, I was taking him down once and for all. My creator would die a horrible death at my hands. He would suffer long and slow. I was anxious to see his demise. If he thought the torture he’d inflicted on me all those years was bad, just wait until I got a hold of him. Only then would he know the meaning of true torture. When I arrived at the front gate, the guards let me in, escorting me through at gunpoint. The other dregs were waiting somewhere outside in the trees. They wouldn’t do anything until Jessica was safe. If The General suspected the other dregs were here, he would hurt Jessica, and I couldn’t allow that. He could torture me all he wanted, but I refused to let him hurt Jessica. The other dregs would know when to strike. I just hoped Jessica managed to get out of the way before this went down.

General Waters was waiting for me. The guards led me to his office, the first door to the right of the main entry, then closed the door behind me. “Tracker! I’ve been waiting for you.” The General rose from behind his giant desk and came toward me, all smiles and fakeness that made me cringe inwardly. A shelf behind the desk displayed all the military awards and medals he’d received over the years. This man was a decorated war hero, yet he’d done horrible things to me—to hundreds of people—and now he’d taken Jessica. There was nothing heroic about General Waters. He’d brainwashed me for years, messing with my mind so deeply that even now, after being away from him for nearly a year, it was almost instinctive for me to fall back into the mindset of obeying him, following orders, and doing exactly what he ordered. It took all of my willpower to remind myself I was not his slave, not his soldier anymore. I was a free man now. I had a mind of my own. I could think for myself. I would never do what General Waters ordered me to do ever again. I stood stiffly while he clapped me on the back and acted like he was my best friend. Like he’d done nothing wrong. Hatred burned deep inside me, craving release. This bastard had Jessica. And if he’d hurt her, he would pay. “Where’s Jessica?” I ground out, unable to stand it any longer. The General smiled indulgently. “Oh, she’s just fine. Don’t you worry.” “I want to see her. Now.” I held his gaze without flinching. He chuckled softly. “I gotta say, Tracker, I’m so delighted you’ve finally taken an interest in a woman. It’s what I wanted from you all along. For you to on my superior DNA and help me create the perfect soldier.” I felt the blood drain from my face as his words sank home. … on my superior DNA… I stared at him, hard. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Fuck me. I had his eyes. Except his were colder. Harder. Meaner. Demented. His nose, too, though mine had been broken a few times and was a bit misshapen now. We had similar builds as well, though I’d never compared myself to him

before. Why would I? But that was where the similarities ended. He was paler skinned, while I was darker skinned—I assumed from my mother. I ed my mother now. Ever since that day when Jessica had been sitting on the bed beside me and asked my real name, more memories had been coming back to me. I now ed my mother telling me to be watchful and aware at all times, that there were bad people out there. Had she been warning me about The General? What had happened to her? “Oh yes, Tracker. I see you’ve finally figured out the truth. Yes, you are my son. I wasn’t going to tell you. You were supposed to be dead. But now that you’re alive and well, it’s time you learned the truth. You’re not my only son. A good portion of the boys I trained here are my sons. A lot of your dreg friends are my sons. Your brothers.” I stared at him as disbelief settled in. “You are one sick son-of-a-bitch. How many women did you force yourself on?” Waters tsked. “Come now, it wasn’t like that. The women agreed to be part of the experiment. None of them were forced in any way.” Right. I’d witnessed what some of the soldiers did to women, at The General’s encouragement. No woman would agree to that. I had to get Jessica out of here before Waters did anything like that to her. “I want to see Jessica now.” My gaze bored into his. “Right this minute.” Waters cleared his throat. Unease flickered across his face before quickly vanishing. Was he afraid of me? I hoped so, the bastard. “I love your enthusiasm, Tracker. It’s nice to finally see you taking an interest in the program. Come along, then. I’ll take you to your woman and we can get started. I just had her moved to a special room for you.” The man was delusional. My enthusiasm for his program? I would kill him right now if I could. But I had to make sure Jessica was safe first, as I had no doubt he’d given orders to have her killed if anything happened to him. “Did you kill my mother?” I asked. He didn’t answer right away. “She would have come after you. I had no choice

but to exterminate her. I couldn’t have her interfering with my program.” Sadness filled my chest. This bastard had killed my mother. A woman I barely ed, but whom I somehow knew had loved me. How different would my life have been if I’d listened more carefully to her and paid more attention to my surroundings? If I’d been alert and aware, then I might not have been “recruited”. “I know what you’re thinking, Tracker,” The General said. “But I would have recruited you no matter where you went or what you did. I would have found you. You were meant to be my soldier from the day you were born.” I didn’t respond to that. What was the use? I’d just been a kid. He was a powerful man. He led me to a section in the back of the facility. There were three red doors with the numbers one, two and three above them. The prostitutes’ rooms. I’d ed by these doors many times, but had never entered them. “I put Jessica in room number three. She’s waiting anxiously for you.” He pulled out a key and unlocked door number three. I hesitated, afraid of what I would see inside. Waters pushed me forward and I entered the room. A king-size bed took up the majority of the room. The walls were decorated with various types of pornography, couples in numerous positions, twosomes, threesomes, women touching themselves…it was crude and vulgar, and I could imagine how uncomfortable Jessica would be in such a room. She was sitting in a chair in the far corner with a book in her lap. Her head jerked up as I entered the room, her gaze locking on mine. “Tracker!” She dropped the book and leapt up from the chair, her gaze searching mine. Then she rushed forward, flinging her arms around me, her softness, her warmth seeping into me. I hugged her tightly, breathing in her unique scent, assuring myself she was alive and well. Her touch healed me. She healed me. Being close to her, touching her, did good things to my soul. I didn’t want to let her go. Ever. But I knew now I could never keep her. For this very reason—it was too dangerous. I had to get her away from The General—to a safe place far away—and once she was safe, then I would have no choice but to walk away from her forever. It was the only way.

I set Jessica away from me and scrutinized her before looking into her eyes. “Did he hurt you? Did that sick bastard touch you?” She shook her head. “No. I’m fine.” The General looked offended. “You wound me, Tracker. I would never hurt your woman. She might be carrying your child, you know.” My stomach churning, I glared at him. “You need to let her go now. I’m here. I’ll do whatever you want. But only if you let her go.” The General clapped his hands. “Perfect! You can visit her later. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” I resisted as he tried to urge me from the room. “If you want me to cooperate, then let her go. Now.” Our gazes locked. He sighed. “Fine.” The door opened behind him and several soldiers entered the room, guns at the ready. “Escort the lady from the premises,” Waters said. “Tracker wants me to let her go, so I’m letting her go.” There was a cold gleam in his eye that made my heart pound with wariness. What was he planning? How far would she get before he snatched her back? Two guards grabbed Jessica and dragged her out of the room. She reached back, her fingers grazing my arm, her gaze filled with worry as they led her away. Would it be the last time I felt her touch? The rest of the guards—four of them—surrounded me. “Come now, Tracker,” The General said. “It’s time to show you why I wanted you back. There’s something you have to see.” “What about Jessica?” I persisted. “What are you going to do with her?” The guards shoved me from the room and out into the corridor. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. Not until I knew Jessica was safe. I spied her down the corridor, just

disappearing around the corner with the soldiers. They were heading toward the exit. Maybe Waters really was setting her free. But I doubted he’d let her go far. “I’m setting her free, just like you wanted. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her. Can’t let anything bad happen to the woman who might be carrying my grandson, now could I?” As demented as Waters was, he was obsessed with creating the perfect soldier. That had been his motive from the start. As long as he believed Jessica might be pregnant, he wouldn’t hurt her. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kidnap her, lock her up, hold her captive, and use her to force me to obey. And if she was pregnant… I prayed she wasn’t. For her sake. And the child’s. And for my own sanity. The very thought of what The General might do to my son filled me with a sick dread. I prayed that they actually would set her free, and that she snuck away and disappeared. Jessica was tough. I had no doubt she would find her way back to the mansion. Hopefully, the other dregs would spot her and make sure she made it safely back to my apartment. Go Jessica. Run, run, run! In the meantime, I’d try not to think about the fact that I was back in this prison. The place of my nightmares. I had no idea what The General planned to do with me. He’d said he had something new to show me. I couldn’t even imagine what that might be. Something sharp pierced my arm. I pulled my gaze back to The General, who was lifting a syringe away from me. I glared at him as dizziness began swirling in my head. The bastard had drugged me. “Nothing personal, Tracker. It’s just to ensure your complete cooperation.” “Bastard,” I hissed. My arms grew heavy. My legs trembled. My head spun. Then I pitched forward, the soldiers catching me.

“Bring him to the lab,” The General said as my eyelids drifted closed. No. Not the lab. I hate that fucking place. They carried me down the hallway. Unable to move, unable to feel, I couldn’t fight off the drug. All I could do was mentally brace myself for the worst. And hope I came out of this alive.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Jessica The facility was built similar to a maze, with many turns and winding corridors, and doors upon doors. Everywhere you looked, there was another door. I imagined it had been built this way to make it confusing, hard to find your way around. Difficult to escape. It was no wonder the dregs had chosen that underground maze to hide out in. They’d lived in a maze-like place for most of their lives. Navigating it probably came easily to them after living in this horrible place. If it weren’t for my excellent memory, I wouldn’t have realized The General had lied to Tracker about freeing me. The soldiers dragged me past the turn that went toward the exit, and instead pulled me down a different hallway, one to the right. Back toward my cell. Oh, hell no! The General didn’t want me dead, so if I escaped, they wouldn’t kill me. I was going to escape. The two soldiers turned down the hallway, steering me down another corridor, this one leading to the cells. I was not going back there! They paused in front of my cell. The man on my left released my arm so he could open my cell. Now! I jerked free of the other soldier’s hold and spun around, racing back down the corridor. Around the corner I sped, nearly skidding into the wall. Another turn. I ed a group of soldiers who’d just come out of a room, narrowing missing them as I ran past. They turned and stared after me, reaching for their weapons. “Stop her! But don’t shoot her. She might be pregnant.”

I came to the final hallway and careened around the corner, my lungs ready to burst, and somehow managed to not slip and fall in my race for freedom. Faster I ran, my heart in my throat, picking up even more speed as the sound of many footsteps thundered behind me. I willed myself to become an Olympic sprinter. To move faster. And faster still. And there it was. The entryway. The exit. Freedom. The young woman at the front desk gasped, her mouth falling open as I sprinted past her. The soldiers were gaining on me. The sounds of their breaths were close, threatening, terrifying. But I was small, and determined, and right now, I was an Olympian. I slammed into the door, pressing the long-bar handle across the front, and the door swung open. I sucked in a lungful of night air and kept going, not daring to stop for an instant. Trees. Run for the trees! I continued on, running blindly into the trees, thankful for the darkness that helped conceal my whereabouts. An arm came out of nowhere, wrapping around my waist and yanking me back behind a large tree. Before I could scream, another hand covered my mouth and a familiar voice whispered, “Shh! It’s me, Nate.” Relief swept through me and I went limp, sagging back against him. Nate released me and I spun around to face him. He’d painted his face with green, black and brown paint, and was dressed in camouflage garb, blending into the trees around him. The other dregs were here. That meant they were here to save Tracker. They had to be.

Nate and I cautiously peered around the tree trunk. The soldiers stood in front of the building, scanning the trees, obviously looking for me. One of them spoke into a two-way radio. Finally, they turned and went back inside. Apparently The General had told them to back off. I stared at the closed door for a moment. Tracker was still in there. I had to get him out. “Where’s Tracker?” Nate’s steady green gaze narrowed on my face. “Did you see him? Do you know why The General wants him?” I nodded. “Yes, I saw him. He was okay. The General said something about a new drug. The man’s a lunatic. Did you know he’s Tracker’s father?” Nate’s eyes widened. “Fuck, no.” “And yours,” I added softly. “Luke’s, Noah’s, Logan’s, Ryan’s and Tony’s. He’s your father. I’m sorry.” “Jesus.” Nate turned away from me for a moment, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He was visibly shaken by this information. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that. How would I feel if someone told me a monster was my father? Like crap. My heart ached for Nate and all the dregs. I waited, giving Nate time to deal with the shocking news. Finally, he seemed to gather himself and turned back to me. “If The General’s got a new drug, that means he wants to experiment with it on Tracker.” Something flashed in his eyes that I couldn’t quite decipher. “We have to get him out of there,” I whispered. “I can’t leave him with that freak.” Nate sighed. “Let us handle it. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” I shook my head. “I’m not leaving Tracker. I want to help.”

Nate scowled. “This isn’t the time to be stubborn, woman.” He glared at me. “It’s too dangerous here. And you make Tracker weak. If you’re here, it gives The General control over him.” He was right. I couldn’t have Tracker worrying about me when he needed to worry about freeing himself. But I refused to abandon him. “I’m not leaving him. I’m going to help free him in any way I can.” I lowered my voice, then itted, “I love him.” Nate turned away from me, muttering something under his breath. At last, he turned back to me. “Fine, but stay the hell out of our way, okay? And whatever you do, don’t let The General catch you again. He’ll just use you to make Tracker obey.” His gaze narrowed on me. “Wait a second. Why didn’t he kill you? That’s not like him. Normally he would kill you as soon as Tracker surrendered.” I hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. “The General knows I might be pregnant with Tracker’s child.” Nate snorted and shook his head. “Of course. The perfect soldier. Sick bastard.” He knew what I was talking about? “What else did The General tell you?” he asked. I told Nate what The General had told me about my father being one of his soldiers, about The General believing Tracker and I could create the soldier of the future. Nate ran a hand through his short dark hair. “This is more twisted than I thought. We’ve got to take The General down once and for all. That son-of-a-bitch has to be stopped.” Since I was in perfect agreement, I didn’t argue with that. “So what do we do now?” I gazed up at him expectantly. I was ready. Nate scowled, his eyes turning hard. “I the others and let them know you’re free. Then we plan our rescue mission and go in after him.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Tracker When I woke, I was strapped to a hospital bed in the lab, one of those mechanical kinds with levers that moved it up or down. The bed had been shifted into an upright position so that I was sitting up. An IV line was taped to the top of my right hand, which ran to a bag attached to a pole next to the bed. It was filled with a clear liquid, but that could mean just about anything from a saline solution to something far more deadly, such as an experimental drug that might fuck me up. The General had pumped me full of numerous experimental drugs over the years. Some had messed with my DNA, my organs, my blood and bones and other tissues. Others had messed with my mind. A few had almost killed me. I would never forget the agony, the tortuous pain that seized my body for weeks on end as the experimental drugs raced through my veins. I had no idea how I’d survived what The General had subjected me to. But here I was. His lab rat once again. I wasn’t sure why he’d chosen me over everyone else. He’d said I was his favorite soldier. And apparently I was his son. But so were most of the others. So why me? “Ah, you’re awake. Good.” I glanced up as Waters came forward and paused beside the bed. Grogginess spun in my head, along with a queasiness I suspected was from whatever they were pumping into my veins through the IV. “Why me?” I asked. “Why not one of the others?” “Because you’re stronger than the others. You withstood more of the treatments with less side effects than the others. And this new drug is supposed to regrow bone tissue. You hear that? Bone tissue! That means if it works, then your leg will heal back up and you’ll be able to run again. Isn’t that exciting! You’ll be able to return to active duty.” A drug that could regrow bone tissue? That would certainly be good for the medical industry, but horrible for me. I had no desire to ever return to active duty. Since I was the only dreg with metal holding my leg together, it made sense why Waters would want to try the drug out on me.

“And if it doesn’t work?” I asked. “Then what? You slaughter me?” The General looked affronted. “Certainly not. You’re more valuable to me alive now. You’ll continue to enjoy your retirement, except you will be forced to live out your days here and become part of the breeding program.” I let out a snort. “Breeding program? You sound like a cattle rancher. And I’m not fucking any of your whores, so you can forget about it. I already told you I won’t do that.” A thoughtful expression spread across his face. “I wasn’t talking about the whores. I was talking about Jessica. I know you desire her. I know you fucked her. Jacob said all the dregs heard you two going at it right before he kidnapped her.” Jacob. That son-of-a-bitch! I was going to kill that traitor. “Doesn’t mean I’ll do it again.” I would never touch Jess again if it kept her safe, kept her away from this bastard. The General chuckled softly. “That girl’s in love with you. Anyone can see that. If I lock you two in a room together, eventually you’ll give in to your desire. Eventually, you will create a child.” I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re assuming she’s fertile and that I don’t fire blanks. What if one or the other of us is sterile? All that shit you pumped into me over the years may have turned me infertile.” The General turned away, obviously unfazed. “We’ll worry about that when the time comes. For now, let’s see how you handle the new drug.” He headed for the door. “These first few days are going to be the toughest. Try not to fight it too much. Just let yourself relax and let the drug do what it’s supposed to do. In a few weeks, we should know whether or not it’s working.” A few weeks? Fuck that. I had to be out of here before then. I had to escape soon. I had to stop the IV from pumping any more drugs into my system. I yanked and pulled at the straps securing my arms to the rails on the side of the bed, to no avail. There was no way I was freeing myself from this bed without assistance.

The heart monitor sped up, beep beep beep. An awful pain slammed into my skull. I hissed and closed my eyes, willing the pain to go away. “Oh, just so you know, Jessica escaped,” The General said from the doorway. “I told my soldiers to let her go. For now. They’ll find her eventually. I’m hoping she’ll lead them right to your hideout. Then I can exterminate the rest of the dregs.” I opened my eyes and glared at him. If Jess had escaped, then the other dregs should have found her by now. They would keep her safe. They would know better than to lead anyone to the hideout in the woods. “That’ll never happen,” I said between gasps of pain. “You’ll never learn where we’re staying. The dregs will take you out before you harm any more people.” Waters tsked. “Come on, give me some credit. I may be old, but I’m not dumb. I know your hideout was somewhere close to where Jacob brought Jessica to me. He was on foot, so he couldn’t have traveled far. Even now, I have men searching for your hideout. We will find it. And when we do, everyone who is living there will be exterminated.” With that, he went out and closed the door behind him. Shit. Jessica’s sister was alone underneath the mansion with no one to protect her. If The General’s soldiers came for her, they would kill her. And Jessica would never forgive me. I had to get out of here. I had to find a way to communicate with the other dregs and warn them that Eliza was in danger. Then I had to send Jess and her sister away. Far away from me and the other dregs. A place where Jess and her sister would be safe. My home in Idaho. I hadn’t been there since I’d bought the place nearly a year ago. It was hidden back in the trees, a spacious log cabin near a lake I’d purchased with the intent of returning to and living out the rest of my days once it was safe to do so. I’d

paid cash for it, using a name The Company would never link to me. The county property records listed the owner as Bear Man LLC, a fictitious entity. If I could get out of here somehow, I would send Jess and her sister to Idaho. And then I’d finish this war with The General. I probably wouldn’t win, but as long as Jess was safe, that was all that mattered. But first I had to get out of here. Which seemed improbable. Highly unlikely. But where there was a will, there was a way. Always.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Tracker I writhed in agony, drifting in and out of consciousness as the drug wreaked havoc on my body. When the pain became too much to bear, I let myself slip into that place where I no longer felt, and let the dreams take hold…

“Hey Tracker, you ready to face the big day?” Gordon’s words floated down from his bunk above me in the small cell. Our prison. “Yeah,” I murmured, though I wasn’t ready at all. Years of conditioning and brainwashing had screwed with our minds, forcing us to always obey every command. Even so, I’d always harbored a secret desire to rebel. To kill all these bastards and escape. To be free. I had never shared my rebellious thoughts with anyone for fear it would get me killed. Tomorrow, we would be discharged. Then executed. It was the way it was done. We were injured. Of no use to The Company anymore. And we were too dangerous to be released into society. So we had to die. It was something that had been ingrained in our heads since the beginning of our recruitment. But I didn’t want to die yet. I was only twenty-six years old. I had an entire future ahead of me. I hesitated before whispering, “You ever thought of trying to escape?” A moment of silence ed, then his quiet response, “Fuck yeah.” Relief swept through me, followed immediately by hope. If he wanted to escape as badly as I did, then maybe there was a way out of here. “What about the others?” I couldn’t resist asking. “You think they want out, too?” Gordon grunted. “Of course they do. But there’s no way out, man. We can’t fight

them all off.” “Can’t is not a word in our vocabulary, ?” He grew silent, then whispered, “What are you planning, Tracker?” “Escape. Right after the award ceremony tomorrow. We attack and kill whoever gets in our way, and then we run like hell. Noah can hack into their server and steal some money for us, transfer it to another somewhere. You know we’re going to need some money to live after we get out of here.” Gordon let out another soft grunt. “I like that idea. But it will be twelve of us against twenty or thirty of them. And they’re all armed.” “So. They’re not as good as we are. We’re the best. that. The best.” Gordon sighed. “We were, at one point. Now we are injured.” He tapped his prosthetic. Gordon was right, but if we were going to escape this place, we had to believe in ourselves. I had no doubt we could easily take out some of the other soldiers. Could we accomplish the near impossible? “They’ll never expect us to try to escape. You’ve seen past ceremonies. Ten or fifteen guards kill the discharges with gunfire, then the bodies are removed. We can take them by surprise. Grab their guns, knock them out, kill them, whatever we have to do to escape. The General will never see it coming. Then we can hold them off long enough for Noah to hack into their system and steal some money.” “It’s worth a try,” Gordon murmured after a moment. “We’ll have to tell the others of our plan, get them all on board...”

“Tracker! You still alive in there?” The General’s voice called to me, trying to bring me back to the present. Trying to pull me back to my current nightmare and away from my best memory of this place: our escape. I didn’t want to go back to the present. I wanted to stay in the past, away from the pain. I wanted to relive that one and only time in this place that I had felt

good. The time I had killed to get away and I’d won my freedom. We’d done the impossible. Noah had hacked into the server and transferred enough money for all of us to live for the rest of our lives. He’d stolen millions. And we’d escaped hell. We’d all withdrawn our portion of the money before it could be traced and purchased properties, vehicles…We’d all gone on spending sprees, blowing cash left and right. Then we’d hidden the rest of the cash in places where we could access it later when necessary. Burying it, locking it in safes, hiding it in places no one would think to look. “Tracker? You in there? Wake up, wake up.” Damn him. I groaned. Blinked. The General’s face loomed above me. How long had I been in dream land? I wanted to go back there. I wanted to be anywhere but here. “How ya’ doing Tracker? You’re looking a little pale. But I know you’re strong. I believe you might actually pull through if I up your dosage and force you to be even stronger. So brace yourself for more pain. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Son-of-a-bitch! He was going to make it worse than it already was? The General fiddled with the IV bag, then turned back to me. “I’ve just upped your dosage. You should be getting twice as much of the drug in your system now. I want to push you to the limit, see how much you can take. This will either kill you or make you stronger. I want you to heal, Tracker. I want you back.” I glared at him through the haze of pain. Never! I was never coming back. I had to get out of this place. If I could move, I would strangle the son-of-a-bitch. “Fuck you, you bastard! Fuck you!” I could feel the evil coursing through my veins through the IV like ice forming over a river. Son-of-a-bitch! It felt like ants crawling all over me, parasites burrowing through my skin. It burned. It stung. It fucking hurt. Pain, everywhere.

I gasped. Groaned. This was worse than any torture he’d previously inflicted on me. This was my insides twisting and squirming, my organs going into shutdown as I felt myself dying from the inside out. My heartrate kicked into overdrive. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. The heart monitor went crazy. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep. My head felt like it was about to explode. Pure agony washed over me. I couldn’t take it. It was too much. “How am I going to produce perfect soldiers if I’m dead?” I hissed out. The General shrugged. “If you’re alive when I come back, then you will have survived the impossible. That will mean you’re incredibly strong and that you will produce strong sons. Don’t disappoint me, Tracker. Don’t die on me now. You. Can. Change. History.” Then he walked out, leaving me alone to face the horrible agony he’d forced on me. I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain. And screamed.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Tracker The scientist/doctor or whatever the hell he was turned away from me after General Waters left, moving to sit behind a desk against the wall with a table full of vials and microscopes and other lab-looking things. The bastard didn’t care that I was dying, that the shit he was pumping into my veins was killing me. His assistant, a pretty blonde woman in her mid-twenties, glanced at me briefly, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. The doctor said something to her and she hurried to do his bidding. I had to stop this shit from entering my bloodstream before it killed me. Desperately fighting back the pain, I glared at the IV attached to the top of my hand. Though my arms and feet were bound with leather straps to the rails on the side of the bed, I could still move my torso a little. If I bent over, stretching my neck as far forward as I could, and twisted my arm sideways in the strap, turning it toward me, I might be able to remove the IV with my teeth. I glanced back at the doctor and his assistant, who were now looking at something through a microscope. I leaned forward, pulling my torso up off the bed until the straps on my feet halted me. I stretched and strained, willing my neck to be longer, my back to bend further, until finally my teeth snagged the IV. Yes! I paused in this awkward position, all slouched over with my limbs stretched and aching, and took a deep breath. I’d been trained to ignore pain. Pulling the IV free was going to hurt, but it was better than the alternative: extreme pain and possible death. Biting down hard, I pulled back, yanking the tape and the IV tube free. Blood spurted out, pooling around my hand. I let go of the IV, watching as the line fell to the floor, dripping fluid out of the small hole. I fell back onto the bed. Now to get out of this contraption they called a bed. Using all my strength, I tried to rock the bed sideways.

It barely moved. Again, I jerked my body sideways, trying to tip the bed over, but the bed stayed firm. It wasn’t moving. Fuck. I needed help. My thrashing caught the attention of the doctor and his assistant, who turned toward me in surprise. “What the…?” The man eyed my bloody hand that was still oozing blood, the IV line on the floor, then jerked his gaze back to mine. He turned to his assistant. “Quickly! Alert The General!” He came toward the bed as the woman ran from the room. Yeah, come closer, you stupid bastard. He reached the bed and bent to retrieve the IV line. Then he leaned over me, reaching for my hand that was still bound to the rail on the side of the bed. I jerked forward, slamming my skull into his face. He cried out and fell backward, dropping the IV line, blood oozing from his nose. Take that, you son-of-a-bitch. I pulled and fought at my restraints again. Then the buckle of the strap holding my bad leg snapped and I yanked my foot free. Yes! I now had a weapon. My leg. And I would use it in any way I could. “Why did you have to go and do that?” the man said from the floor where he sat, clutching his broken nose. Ignoring him, I focused on the doorway. Soon, The General would return. With reinforcements. It was highly unlikely I’d be able to fight them off with one leg while my arms and other leg were tightly bound to the bed rails. But I wasn’t giving up. If I

could injure a few more people before they reattached the IV line, all the better. I had the advantage because Waters wanted me alive, so they wouldn’t kill me. But I would attempt to maim or kill anyone who got too close. I eyed the door. And waited. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Jessica I stood in the shadows while the dregs dispatched the guards around the building. It was after midnight. Several people had come and gone from the front of the building, but there had been no activity for the past several minutes while we’d watched and waited. The dregs moved in after removing the last body and hiding it in the trees. Nate motioned me forward. “Let’s go. I don’t have to tell you to be careful. Watch your back. If you find Tracker before we do, then try to free him.” I nodded, swallowing hard. This was it. We were going in to save Tracker. Assuming it wasn’t already too late. Luke stepped forward and blew the lock off the door by firing several rounds into it with his semi-automatic rifle. Then the dregs rushed in the building, shooting everyone who crossed their path. I followed behind them, glancing around, taking everything in as we crept down one hallway and into another. Soldiers came at us from all sides, firing back. Gunshots rang out everywhere, the noise deafening. I crouched down and waited while bullets whizzed past. The dregs moved forward with determination, killing anyone who tried to stop them, intent on saving one of their own. Soldiers screamed and fell back, one by one. Another hallway. More soldiers. More gunfire. Screams. “Fuck, I’m hit.” Noah let out a hiss of pain, clutching his arm. Nate glanced at the others. “Anyone else hit?” “Yeah,” Ryan muttered, glancing down at his stomach where a pool of blood was forming. The other dregs shook their heads. “Shit.” Nate looked at me. “You okay, Jessica?”

I nodded. “I’ll get Ryan out,” Luke said, looping an arm around Ryan’s waist. “You guys get to Tracker.” Noah glanced at his arm again, grimaced, then said, “I’m out, too. I’ll go with Ryan and Luke.” That left Nate, Tony, Logan and me. I watched as the injured dregs slipped back down the hallway toward the entrance. Nate, Tony and Logan moved forward. I quickly followed, determined to find Tracker. Determined to free him. “He’s probably in the lab,” Tony said, exchanging glances with Nate and Logan. Logan jerked his head in a nod. “Agreed. Let’s go.” We didn’t encounter any more soldiers as we rounded a corner and then came to the lab. Outside of the lab stood several armed guards, who immediately fired at us. The dregs fired back, then more soldiers appeared down the hallway, rushing toward us. While they fought their way past the remaining army, I crawled into the room. Tracker was tied to a bed in the middle of the room. He had his leg wrapped around the neck of a young soldier, who squirmed and choked, trying to break free, but it was obvious Tracker wasn’t about to release him. A man in a white robe—the doctor?—sat on the floor beside the bed, clutching a bloody nose. General Waters stood next to the bed with an IV line in his hands, scowling down at Tracker. Tracker glared at The General with a fierce expression on his face. There was blood all over Tracker’s arm, and blood splatters on the bed next to him. My heart lurched. What the hell were they doing to him? “Get away from him!” I lunged to my feet and raced toward The General, ready to tackle the bastard. “Leave him alone!”

Tracker’s gaze jerked to me. His eyes were glazed. “Stay back, Jess,” he warned. I hesitated, halting a few feet from The General. The doctor moved suddenly, tackling me backward. Bastard. I hit the floor with a soft cry and tried to scramble free, but he grabbed my foot and held on. The other dregs were still fighting the soldiers out in the hallway. More gunfire exploded. Grunts, groans, thuds, bangs echoed all around. This was do or die. I had to focus on freeing Tracker. That was my only goal right now. Save him. Gunfire suddenly erupted around the room. The doctor twitched and jerked, releasing my foot. He fell back, his eyes glazed. I shoved him aside and sat up, my gaze jerking to Tracker. Nate and Tony had The General between them, their guns pointed in his face, while Logan was freeing Tracker from the bed. Scrambling to my feet, I assisted Logan, freeing Tracker’s other hand. The soldier Tracker had held down with his leg was now dead. Logan shoved him aside and he fell back, landing on the floor next to the doctor. It was then I noticed the young, blonde-haired woman cowering near the head of the bed. I sized her up, then decided she was harmless. Tracker slid his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. He collapsed, his legs giving out on him. Logan held him upright while I rushed to his other side and wrapped my arm around his waist. Together, we helped Tracker toward the door. “He has to die,” Tracker whispered, turning back toward The General. His face was pale, his eyes still glazed with whatever drug they’d given him. “Don’t worry, he will.” Logan turned Tracker back toward the door and freedom. “You’re making a huge mistake,” General Waters snarled. “I was injecting him with a new drug that can heal bone, you fools!” “You’re done using people as lab rats,” Tony sneered. “Now it’s your turn to be a lab rat.” Logan and I paused at the doorway with Tracker, turning to see what Nate and Tony had in mind for The General. “I want that money back that you guys stole from me!” The General raged.

“Twenty million, you assholes!” Tony shoved The General down onto the bed and Nate secured his hands with the straps while Tony secured his feet. “Money well earned, if you ask me,” Nate said. “Yeah, asshole.” Tony gave a fierce yank on The General’s foot, causing the old man to grunt. “We earned it. Every fucking penny.” Tracker pulled away from us and stalked toward the bed, limping on his injured leg. He stumbled and fell, landing hard on his outspread palms. I rushed to his side to help him, but he shoved me away and crawled the rest of the way to the bed, reaching out to retrieve the IV line that hung from the bag on the pole. With a feral look in his eyes, he thrust the IV line at Tony. “No!” The General shouted. “You can’t do this! I don’t have Tracker’s hardened immunity. I’ll die!” Tony grinned evilly. “That’s the point.” With a quick thrust, he stuck the IV line into The General’s arm. The General gasped and pulled at his bound hands. “You fools! You’re going to kill me! All my research will have been for nothing!” “Again, that’s the point.” Nate did something to the IV bag, opening the valve all the way, then nodded at Tony. They both reached down and helped Tracker to his feet. Logan stepped forward and the four of them stared down at The General as the man began to squirm and moan. “It hurts,” he screamed. “It feels like ants are crawling all over me! Get it out! Get it out!” Tracker glanced at me, but his eyes were still glazed, and I wasn’t sure if he recognized me anymore. The dregs turned away from the bed, ignoring The General who kept screaming at them to let him go. “Come on, Jessica,” Nate urged, waving me forward. “Let’s get out of here.”

Tracker’s head lolled forward as they helped him from the room. I followed after them, The General’s cries grating on my nerves as he screamed for someone to release him. I hoped he died. I was surprised the dregs hadn’t killed him outright. I was sure it was because they wanted him to suffer first. But what if someone freed him before the drugs did too much damage to him? I spun around in time to see the woman rise from the floor and dart to The General’s side. Crap. She was going to free him. “Oh, no you don’t!” I ran back into the room and tackled her just as she reached out to pull the IV free. We hit the floor together, a tangle of limbs. She screamed and clawed at my face, pulled at my hair. “That’s my father, you bitch! Let him go!” I pushed her away and sat up, glaring down at her. “That man killed my father! And he tortured Tracker and all my friends! He deserves to die!” Nate appeared beside us. He pulled me to my feet and glared down at the woman. “If you want to live, sister, leave right now.” He pointed at the doorway. Her eyes widened. She swallowed hard. Then she bolted to her feet and scrambled from the room, casting one last glance at The General, who’d gone still. Was he dead? I hoped so. God, I hoped so. Nate paused to check The General’s pulse. “He’s dead. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” The General was dead. Thank God. The man who’d tortured Tracker and the others had finally gotten what he deserved. Though it would have been nice to see him suffer more. We made our way to the exit, the dregs killing anyone who tried to stop us. Minutes later, we were in the trees and heading for their vehicles parked at the other end of the park near the zoo. We finally reached the parking lot, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Nate pulled his medical bag from the Escalade and Tony assisted him as he tended to Ryan and Noah’s injuries while the others stood guard. The bullet had gone straight through Noah’s arm, so Nate only had to disinfect and sew him back up. Then he sealed the wound with his hand and eased Noah’s pain with his special healing touch. Ryan’s abdominal injury was

more serious, and it took a bit longer for Nate to make Ryan stable enough to be able to travel. Nate planned to remove the bullet once we got back to the mansion. For the time being, he cleaned the area, then pressed his palm against the wound and tried to help ease Ryan’s pain. Ryan’s eyes closed and he murmured a quiet, “thanks”. But what about Tracker? He was pale, his eyes glazed. He couldn’t even stand up on his own. What had The General done to him? How could Nate help him? His “injuries” were internal, an unknown drug swarming through his bloodstream. My heart squeezed, terror wrapping around it. Would Nate be able to save him? Or would he die because of me?

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Jessica A half hour later, we were heading back to the underground hideout in the woods. Logan rode Tracker’s bike back, leaving room for Tracker in the Escalade. Tracker faded in and out of consciousness throughout the journey, not fully aware of what was going on around him. Nate and Tony sat up front, with Noah and Tracker in the middle seat, and me in the very back seat all by myself. Luke drove Ryan back with him in his Camaro. I remained silent as the dregs talked about the mission and about what type of drug they believed the General had been pumping into Tracker. I found myself glancing at Tracker every so often, but his expression was dazed, his eyes blank. He didn’t speak, except to mumble incoherently. Nate kept casting worried glances in the rearview mirror at him. If Nate was worried, then I was scared to death. I prayed over and over that Tracker would recover from whatever drug The General had given him. Please God, don’t let him die. An hour and a half later, we neared the woods. Tracker sat up straighter in his seat, his eyes slowly clearing. “Waters said he had soldiers searching for our hideout here. We need to be cautious and ready for an attack.” The other dregs exchanged glances. “Eliza,” I whispered as fear squeezed my heart. She was alone here. Had The General’s soldiers found her? Tension filled the vehicle as we traveled closer to the haunted mansion. Nate slowed the Escalade and nodded toward his window. “Look.” Everyone glanced to the left. A body of a man lay in the bushes near the side of the road. The dregs gripped their weapons, their gazes alert, as they stared out of the vehicle. Why was a dead soldier out there? Had The General’s men found the dregs’ hideout? If so, then who had killed that soldier?

Oh God, was Eliza okay? My fear escalated the closer we got. Another body lay off to the right side of the vehicle as we reached the back of the mansion. I stared out through the darkness. Another soldier? I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was. Nate brought the vehicle to a stop in the trees. “Let’s take a look before we enter the garage.” Doors opened. Nate, Tony and Noah slipped out, leaving Tracker and me alone. Though Noah’s arm was freshly wounded from a bullet hole, apparently he felt well enough to help. I glanced at Tracker, then reached over the seat and held his hand. “How are you doing?” He turned his head, his gaze seeking mine. “It just hurts everywhere. This shit they gave me is brutal. It makes my head spin.” I squeezed his hand tighter. “Hang in there. You’re going to be okay.” He closed his eyes, his head lolling back against the seat. “Fuck, it hurts.” His hand tightened around mine. I didn’t know what to do. How could I help him? The doors opened. Nate, Tony and Noah slipped back in the Escalade. “We found three more bodies near the entrance,” Nate said. “Someone took them all out. An experienced killer.” An experienced killer? A chill crept down my spine. Was Eliza okay? “Where’s Eliza?” I whispered. “We don’t know yet,” Nate responded. He drove the vehicle forward and entered the garage. Ryan and Luke were already there. Logan pulled in behind us on Tracker’s Ducati. Everyone climbed out of the Escalade. Tony and Nate helped Tracker, who

leaned heavily on them as they all headed across the forest for the underground entrance. Luke and Logan helped Ryan, who was obviously in great pain. Noah clutched his bandaged arm, but he didn’t appear to be in too much distress as he took up the rear with me, checking for danger. I glanced down at the bodies they were talking about, then glanced away. Who had killed these men? Had they been sent to dispatch the dregs as Tracker had suggested? We entered the tunnel and headed through the maze. The ghosts swirled around, following us for several turns, then disappeared. The closer we got to the dregs’ underground apartments, the more worried I became for Eliza. Please God, let her be okay. Finally, we reached the long corridor where the dregs resided. Tony let go of Tracker and moved in the lead, slowly checking for danger. A door opened down the hallway—Gordon’s old apartment—and Eliza cautiously stepped out. When she spied us, her eyes filled with tears and she rushed forward into my arms. “Jess! Are you okay?” “Yes,” I assured her, squeezing her tightly. “What about you?” I stepped back to check her for injuries. “What happened?” She swallowed hard, glancing up as the dregs surrounded us. “I’m fine. A bunch of guys with guns came in here. But Jacob stopped them.” She hitched in a breath. “He killed them all, then dragged their bodies outside. He said he would remove the bodies later.” Then she smiled. “It was awesome! You should have seen it. He’s like a ghost, some kind of karate expert or something.” Phantom of Death. That’s what Nate had said Jacob’s nickname was. Now I think I understood the meaning of it. I thought of those bodies outside and let out an involuntary shiver. Everyone exchanged glances. “Jacob came back?” Tracker hissed. “Seriously? Where is that traitor?” Eliza’s eyes widened. She stepped back. “He’s…in his room, I think. With his little girl.”

Silence descended. At that exact moment, a door opened farther down the hall. Jacob stepped out with the same little girl The General’s men had handed to him out on that dirt road. The child couldn’t be any older than four or five and had gorgeous, curly blond ringlets. She was absolutely adorable. Jacob paused, immediately bending to lift the little girl protectively into his arms. “Fuck,” Tracker whispered from behind me. “He’s got a kid. Why didn’t he tell us?” Tony surged toward Jacob, his face etched in fury. “Traitor!” When none of the other dregs made any move to stop him, I screamed, “No!” and raced after Tony, fearing he would hurt Jacob’s child. “He has a little girl!” I grabbed Tony’s arm, trying to stop him, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. Impossible. He kept moving forward, flinging my arm aside without even stopping. Scrambling faster, I dived in between them before Tony could attack. I pressed my palms into Tony’s chest. “Stop!” Tony came to an abrupt halt, his cold black gaze narrowing on me. “Move aside, Jessica. I’m going to kill that traitor.” “No. Please, Tony. He didn’t mean to betray Tracker. He had no choice. Look!” I spun around and pointed at the adorable little girl. “He has a child. They made him do it. You would have done the same thing! All of you would! And I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me, you know that.” “You may be fine, but look at Tracker.” Tony flung his arm toward Tracker, who was pale and weak, his eyes still glazed. “He might not survive the night. Because of him!” He jabbed a finger at Jacob, sneering. The other dregs came forward and Nate and Logan grabbed Tony’s arms, holding him back. “Easy,” Nate murmured. “Jessica’s right.” I glanced at Jacob, who was staring at me with a look of stunned disbelief. Then he warily glanced at the dregs who’d all gathered around. “I lured them here on purpose, so I could kill them. They’re all dead. I lived up to my name. I was the

Phantom of Death, so there’s no need to worry. Please, don’t hurt my kid.” His raspy voice didn’t sound right with the pleading in that last sentence. “I’m all she has left.” He looked at Tracker, who was leaning against the wall next to Ryan, his face strained. “I didn’t want to do it, Tracker.” He swallowed hard. “But they killed her mother and threatened to kill her too if I didn’t give Jessica to them. I’m sorry, man. I had no choice.” No one spoke for several heartbeats, then Eliza hurried forward and plucked the little girl from Jacob’s arms. “Come on, Hazel. We can have that tea party now.” Hazel? Eliza had obviously already met Jacob’s daughter. I stared as the little girl wrapped her arms trustingly around my sister’s neck and nodded. The child stared wide-eyed at the dregs, revealing large, beautiful blue eyes. Jacob’s eyes. Jacob looked relieved as Eliza took Hazel back to Gordon’s apartment. I hesitated, glancing after Eliza and Hazel, then back at the dregs. What would they do to Jacob now? “You can’t kill him,” I said aloud. “He has a little girl. And he killed all those men who came here to kill you guys.” I glanced at each of them, urging them to understand. “If he hadn’t been here, Eliza would likely be dead, and your hideout would be history. You have to let it go. Forgive him. Please. I already did.” Tony spat at Jacob’s feet and jerked free from the hold Nate and Logan had on him. “There’s no excuse for betraying one of your brothers. I will never forgive you. You’re not one of us anymore.” “What if that was your child?” I whispered. “What would you have done?” Tony spun around, glaring at me. “I don’t have a kid and I never will.” Without another word, he marched off. Moments later his apartment door slammed shut. “I say we let him stay for now,” Noah said quietly. “Just until he finds another place to go. But Tony’s right. He’s not one of us anymore. He’s an outsider now. He can’t be trusted.” There were murmurs of agreement amongst the other dregs. “Outsider,” Ryan hissed through his pain, glaring at Jacob.

“Let’s get Ryan to his room so I can take care of his bullet wound,” Nate said. He glanced at Tracker. “You need to go lay down, Tracker. I’ll tend to Ryan’s injury first, then I’ll see what I can do for you.” Tracker nodded, his face pale. The dregs all began disbursing, Luke and Nate leading Ryan away while Logan helped Tracker toward his apartment. Jacob glanced back at me as everyone walked away. “Thank you. You didn’t have to forgive me. I probably wouldn’t have.” He looked down at his feet. “Tell Eliza to bring Hazel back when she’s ready for a break. I don’t know much about kids, so I’m at a loss what to do with her.” I hesitated. “It’s okay. We’ll help you out. Eliza’s really good with kids.” With a relieved and obviously grateful nod, Jacob turned away. “I’ve got some bodies to get rid of.” I hurried down the corridor after Logan and Tracker, catching up with them just as they entered Tracker’s apartment. Logan helped Tracker to his bed, then turned from the room. “You gonna be all right with him?” I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Logan.” After Logan left, I tried to help Tracker get comfortable, fluffing the pillow behind his head and tucking the covers around him. He was shivering now, his limbs quaking as if he were freezing. His teeth started to chatter. He moaned softly and closed his eyes. “It hurts, Jess,” he whispered, clutching my hand. “Everywhere.” My heart pinched. Worry clenched at my gut. I didn’t know what to do for him, so I climbed in the bed and cuddled next to him, wrapping my arms around him, trying to share my warmth. “Hang in there,” I whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay. Nate will be here soon. He’ll know what to do.” Tracker moaned again, his hand tightening around mine. I held him, waiting for

Nate to arrive, wishing I could do something more for him. It seemed like forever, but was probably only fifteen or twenty minutes before Nate showed up. “I wish I knew what kind of drug they gave you, Tracker.” Nate sighed. “Then I could have an idea how to help you, but I don’t have a clue.” He opened his medical kit and checked Tracker’s vitals. “Jesus, your heartrate is nearly twice as fast as it should be and your blood pressure is 190 over 100. That’s dangerously high. You should go to a hospital.” Tracker shook his head. “No hospitals. It’s too dangerous.” Nate sighed. “You’re right, but you should know that I might not be able to save you.” Tracker mumbled something indiscernible, then moaned softly, twisting his head from side to side. He clenched his fists, gripping the covers in his hands. He was hurting and I felt so helpless. “Do something for him,” I pleaded, looking at Nate. “Please.” Nate sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face. “My medical supplies are running low. I don’t have the proper stuff to treat him with.” His eyes filled with concern. “All I can do is give him some fluids and hope it’s enough.” “Can’t you ease his pain?” I whispered. Nate sighed. “In order to ease someone’s pain, I have to touch the place of injury, and then focus my healing power on that injury. I don’t know where Tracker’s injury is. It’s everywhere, coursing through his veins. I can’t help with that.” Frustration crossed his features. “I don’t know what to do for him.” “Give him the fluids, then.” I prayed it would be enough. “Please. Do whatever you have to.” Tracker began to whimper softly, his body shaking harder. I squeezed him against me, trying to soothe him, though I doubted I was doing much. Nate hooked him up to an IV, setting the valve the way he wanted it, then stepped away from the bed. “I’ll be back to check on him a little later. Let me know immediately if his condition worsens. I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can

do.” “Thank you.” With a nod, Nate left. Tracker continued to shiver and moan for over an hour, then, finally, he grew still. I leaned over to press my ear to his chest, making sure he was still alive. His heart thudded rapidly against his ribs. Thump thump thump thump thump. Breathing a sigh of relief, I snuggled back against him. He was just asleep. He’d finally given in to exhaustion. But his body was still in shock, trying to fight off whatever The General had given him. I didn’t dare leave him for fear he would die while I was gone. So I remained in the bed with him, snuggling close, my hand over his heart, and prayed he would get better soon. Nate returned to check on him a few hours later. He said Tracker’s vitals were still high and that Tracker had likely ed out from too much stress on his organs. “He may not wake for a while, Jessica.” He paused, his gaze serious. “Whatever they gave him is messing him up. You need to be prepared for the worst. It’s possible he might not wake at all.” I swallowed hard. Tracker’s situation was direr than I’d imagined. He could die. Die. My chest squeezed. Tears sprang to my eyes. No! I couldn’t lose him. Not now, dammit. He was special. A good man. And I loved him. So much it made my heart hurt. Together, we’d discovered what true love was. He might be in denial, he might not realize what it was yet, but I knew he’d felt it, too. He’d drawn that beautiful rose and left it by my pillow. That meant something, right? Please God, don’t take him away from me. I just found him. “Thanks, Nate.” My lip trembled. “Will you check on Eliza for me?” “I’ll send her in to see you.”

I squeezed Tracker tightly against me one last time, not wanting to let him go. But I needed to pee, and there was nothing I could do for him while he slept, anyway. With a sigh, I rose from the bed and turned back to stare down at him. He was out cold. He might never wake again. What would I do if he died? I hadn’t told him how I felt about him. If he died, he would never know I loved him. A heaviness settled into my chest. My eyes filled with tears. Forcing back a sob, I went to use the restroom and tried to get a grip. When I came out, Eliza was there, staring down at Tracker in the bed. “What happened to him?” she asked. “Nate said he might die.” I drew in a ragged breath and shook my head. “He was given some kind of experimental drug. We don’t know what it was, but it was bad.” A huge lump formed in my throat. I swallowed hard. I’d been strong for so long, but now I felt so weak. So helpless. I couldn’t save him. No one could. I might lose him before I’d ever truly had him. Please God, don’t take him away. Eliza pulled me into her arms and gently patted my back. “It’s going to be all right,” she soothed gently. “Isn’t that what you always tell me when things turn bad? He’s a dreg. He’s tough.” I clung to my little sister, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Yes.” But this time everything wasn’t fine. The only thing that could save Tracker now would be his will to survive and whether or not his body could recover from whatever The General had given him. It’s going to be all right. If I told myself that enough times, would it be true?

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Tracker Fever wracked my body, pulling me under, fire raging through my veins. Then coldness settled in, ice burrowing under my skin, sinking in deep to freeze my heart. I screamed and floundered, lost in the darkness, lost in the battle between hot and cold, consumed by the foreignness coursing through my bloodstream. I tried to focus on something good, something that would help me forget the pain. And I thought of her. A brave girl with gorgeous hazel eyes who was selfless and giving and possessed a heart of gold. She backed me no matter what I did, believing in me, trusting me, through thick and thin. She was amazing. She didn’t fault me for the horrible things I’d done. She saw goodness in me, even when I didn’t. She held my hand when I needed comfort, snuggled close to my side when I needed warmth. Her presence, her touch soothed me, and made me want to live. Made me want to be worthy of her. Made me want to fight off the evil and come back to the land of the living. I kept her in my thoughts, refusing to let her go. She was my light. My sun. My Jessica. Blinded by her brightness, by her beauty, I clung to her memory, holding onto it tightly. Then a dark shadow loomed closer, swirling around, threatening to overtake me, threatening to block out her light. No. I jerked awake, my heart pounding. Gradually, I became aware of my surroundings. I was in my apartment, in my bed. Something soft and warm curled against my back. Jessica. Her small body fit snugly against me, her arm around my waist, her legs tangled with mine. She was here. She’d stayed by my side, never leaving me. She should have gone, taken her sister and left, especially after I’d said those cruel things to her. Yet she was still here. Warmth spread throughout my body, centering in my chest. My throat tightened with emotion. Yeah. Emotion. I was feeling things. Really feeling things now.

I had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be real. Was I dead? I rolled toward her, pulling her into my arms. She didn’t disappear in a swirl of smoke. Instead, she stirred, mumbling something incoherent, and snuggled closer against me. No. It wasn’t a dream. She was real. She really was here with me. In my bed. I brushed a lock of hair away from her face and pressed my lips to hers. I loved that sexy mouth of hers. So soft and kissable. Her eyes fluttered open. “Tracker?” Oh yeah, she was real. I kissed her again, longer, deeper, sweeping my tongue in deep to tangle with hers. She moaned softly, leaning into me, kissing me back. I soon became lost in her, swept away by the feelings she aroused in me. All I could think, smell, taste, breathe was Jess. “Tracker.” She leaned away, her hands coming up to touch my face while she scrutinized me. She felt along my brow, over my nose, across my jaw… “Am I dreaming?” she whispered. “Are you really alive?” I chuckled. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself ever since I woke.” She ran a finger over my bottom lip, then kissed me again. “You’re really awake.” Her voice was full of wonder. “You pulled through.” Her eyes filled with tears. She swallowed hard. “It’s been days, Tracker. I thought you were going to die. We all did.” She hugged me then, tightly, smashing her small breasts against my chest. I hugged her back, loving the way she fit so perfectly against me, loving that she cared about me enough to stick around instead of leaving when she had the chance. Why had she stayed? My chest tightened. My throat clogged with emotion. God. How could I send her away? I was a mess without her. I needed her. So damn much. You can’t keep her, Tracker. You have to let her go. What if I don’t want to? What if I want to keep her forever?

Then you’re a selfish bastard. You can’t put her through that. She deserves better than you. She deserves the kind of life you could never give her. She leaned away again and looked into my eyes. “How do you feel?” “Tired,” I itted. Afraid. For the first time in as long as I could , I was afraid. Afraid of losing her. But I had to let her go. I had to. I’d tried to make myself worthy of her, but it didn’t matter. This was no life for her. I had nothing worth offering. Nothing of value to give her. I was a dreg. I kissed her again before she could protest, rolling over on top of her. I would keep her for a few more days, take advantage of her presence. Try to get my fill. I would make love to her as many times as I could, drawing it out slowly, building the anticipation, the desire…that first time with her had been so damn beautiful. She’d taken me to another realm, a world I hadn’t known existed. I wanted that again. I could no longer deny I felt something for her. Something powerful. “I’m horny as hell,” I growled, nipping her ear. “I want you.” She laughed softly and pushed against my chest. “You just woke from a threeday coma. You’re in no condition to be having sex.” “I’ll be the one deciding that.” I let out a soft growl and kissed her again. Long. Slow. Deep. She made a sound of protest. “Tracker,” she whispered. “We can’t–” I pulled her bottom lip between my teeth, gently sucked. She moaned softly and then she surrendered, relaxing beneath me with a breathless sigh, her arms coming around me. She kissed me back urgently, her tongue brushing against mine. The fact that I could make her feel as good as she made me feel was a heady feeling. She wanted me. Truly wanted me. And God that made me feel good. Then guilt swept through me as I recalled what I’d done to her in the workout room. I’d been rough, almost violent, taking her against the wall, trying to rid myself of the pain of Gordon’s death. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, leaning back.

“For what I did to you that day in the workout room. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I was a selfish bastard. Please forgive me.” She grabbed my chin and looked into my eyes. “You didn’t hurt me, Tracker. I wanted to be there for you. There’s nothing to forgive.” Was she being truthful? “I promise I’ll never be a selfish prick like that ever again.” She brushed her fingers through my hair. “It’s all right. I enjoyed it.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t deserve this woman. But God help me, I wanted her, so damn much. Now. I needed her now. “Take it off.” I pulled at her shirt. “I need you naked, right now.” She squirmed free of the shirt and tossed it aside, her gaze never leaving mine. I lowered my head and suckled those gorgeous breasts, first one, then the other. Lick, suck, then nip gently with my teeth. Over and over. She whimpered and moaned, arching against me. I loved that I could drive her wild like this. I loved that she was mine. Mine. How the hell was I going to let her go? The sound of my apartment door opening and closing, then footsteps heading toward us slowly penetrated my senses. Shit. I rolled away from her, grabbing the covers and yanking them over us just as Nate entered the room. Jessica let out a squeak and snuggled up against me. I glared at Nate as he paused at the end of the bed. “Don’t you know how to knock?” I growled. He glanced at Jess’s red face, then back at me. His lips twitched. Bastard. He thought this was funny? Nate cleared his throat. “Welcome back to the land of the living. We weren’t sure

if you were going to make it. Let me check your vitals, then I’ll leave you two alone.” He removed a blood pressure cuff from his bag and wrapped it around my arm. I continued to glare at him. “Seriously, Nate? Can’t you come back later? We’re a little busy here.” He snickered, squeezing the pump of the cuff until it tightened around my arm, then slowly puffed out. “I’ll be out of your hair in a moment. If you’re going to be having sex, I want to make sure you’re up to it first.” He winked at Jessica. She blushed and giggled, burrowing into my side. “110 over 60. That’s great. You’re back in the normal range.” Nate removed the cuff and set it aside. Next, he stuck one of those annoying thermometers in my ear, checking my temperature. “98.6. Right on, brother.” He grinned. Then he pulled out a stethoscope and yanked the covers away from us. Jessica let out a soft squeal and reached for the covers, pulling them back over herself. “You’re testing my patience here, asshole,” I snarled in warning. Nate sent Jess an apologetic look. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” He looked at me and chuckled. “Chill out, Tracker. Let’s check your heart. It was going double time when I last checked it. If you’re going to be doing something strenuous like sex, then we need to make sure you can handle it first.” “Jesus,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Now you’re just being an ass. Can’t you go the fuck away?” I didn’t need to be emasculated in front of Jess. I was fine. A little tired and weak, but otherwise fine. Ignoring me, Nate pressed the stethoscope over my heart and listened. Then he pressed it on the other side of my chest, then against the left side of my stomach, then the other side of my stomach. “Sit up,” he ordered. “I need to check your lungs.” With an angry snarl, I bolted upright and endured his istrations a little longer while he pressed the stethoscope at several difference places along my back and asked me to inhale deeply. He deliberately took his time until he finally put everything back in his bag. “Lungs sound fine.”

I laid back down, yanking the covers over me, glaring at him the entire time. “You done now, asshole?” Nate rose, his eyes full of mischief as he looked down at us. “I’d say you’re going to be fine, Tracker. You’re one lucky bastard. I don’t know what The General gave you, but you somehow fought it off.” He headed for the door. “You can have sex whenever you feel like it. But the other dregs are going to want to see you, so you might want to wait a bit, or you’ll give them an eye full.” He glanced back with a smirk, winking at Jess. I grabbed the closest thing I could find—a book off the nightstand—and chucked it at him. He dodged the book just in time, laughing softly. “Get out!” I shouted. “And lock the door behind you. If you send anyone else in here right now, I’ll kick your fucking ass.” Nate’s laughter floated back to us. “I’ll gladly meet you in the ring when you’re up to it. Later, man.” He went out and closed the door. I glared after him. Asshole. I wasn’t sure if he had locked the door or not. But I wasn’t about to have anyone walking in on us again. Nate had ruined the mood, anyway. And my stomach was growling. Jessica rose from the bed and pulled her shirt over her head. “I’ll get you something to eat. You’re probably starving. The other dregs will want to see you, you know. We have to let them know you’re okay. Then, later, I’ll you in there and we can finish what we started.” Her gaze locked on mine. Anticipation crackled between us. “I’ll hold you to that.” She smiled and went into the kitchen. I sighed, staring after her. As much as I craved Jessica, as much as I needed her, I had to let her go. Though I desperately longed to lock the door and have her all to myself—forever—I couldn’t put her in danger anymore. Even with The General dead, The Company still might come for me. Life with me might never be safe. I was still dangerous. I was still a dreg.

And God help me, if I touched her again, I’d never be able to let her go. So, I had no choice but to set her free. Before I killed her.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Jessica The other dregs trickled in to see Tracker while I fixed him dinner. First Logan and Noah came. Then Luke. Ryan was apparently still in bed from his bullet wound, but Luke informed us he was recovering well and that he would be up and about soon. Tracker ate while he visited with each of them. It was obvious to me how loyal they were to each other, which explained why Jacob’s betrayal upset them so much. But certainly, they would all have done the same thing if they were in Jacob’s situation? Tony came in after the others left. I was just cleaning up Tracker’s dishes and taking them to the kitchen to wash as he came in the door. He glanced at me briefly, but he didn’t say anything before he walked into Tracker’s room. Their murmured voices reached me as I washed the dishes, but I wasn’t able to make out what they said. A few minutes later, Tony left. When I went back to check on Tracker, he was lying back with his eyes closed. I started to turn away, thinking he was asleep, but his words halted me. “Will you lay with me for a bit?” I jerked my gaze to his. His eyes were soft, a vulnerable, unguarded expression on his face. Was Tracker finally letting down his guard? I moved up to the bed and slid under the covers next to him. He breathed out a sigh and pulled me against him. Neither one of us spoke. We just lay there, comfortable together, our bodies snuggling close. “I some of my past now,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. “I my mother a little.” “What was she like?” I asked, eager to learn more. “She was kind, gentle. Like you. I that much. I her warning me to be cautious, alert for danger. But I was just a cocky kid, thinking I was invincible. I think she knew The General was coming for me and tried to keep me from that.” He sighed. “I wish I’d listened to her.”

I placed my hand over his and squeezed. “It probably wouldn’t have mattered. The General had plans for you from the start. I don’t think anything would have stopped him.” “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He grew silent and I waited, sensing there was more. “You asked me once about my tattoo. I had it done after we escaped. Some of the other dregs had tattoos done at the same time. We wanted something to remind us we were alive, that we had survived the unthinkable. I put it on my back because I didn’t want to see it all the time, but I wanted to know it was there. I wanted to see it every once in a while to I’d survived hell. Sometimes, when I’m feeling weak, I’ll turn around in front of the mirror and look at that tattoo to remind myself I’m strong and that if I survived what I went through, then I can survive anything.” I squeezed his hand again. “Yes, you are strong. You’re a survivor. You’re a good man, Tracker. And it’s a beautiful tattoo.” He grew silent again. He slipped his large hand over mine and his body relaxed against me. It was as if now that he’d told me what he’d wanted to say, he could relax. Moments later, he was asleep. I stayed there for several more minutes, listening to him breathe, feeling his warmth against me, enjoying this rare connection. Then I carefully slid out of the bed. He needed rest so he could fully recover. I tiptoed out of his bedroom and closed the door so that no one would disturb him. Then I went to see how Eliza was doing. I had basically abandoned her to look after Tracker these past few days. Now I needed to make sure she was all right. I entered Gordon’s old apartment, my heart pinching once again when I thought of Gordon and how good of a friend he’d been to Tracker. I could never replace that special bond Tracker and Gordon had shared, but I hoped I could help fill the empty void in Tracker’s life now that his best friend was gone. I wasn’t sure what our future held. Before, Tracker had wanted me to leave. Now, I didn’t know what he wanted. He’d shared private things with me. He’d made himself vulnerable. Did he want me to stay? Or would he expect me to leave? How could I say goodbye to the man I now loved more than anything in the world?

Eliza and Hazel were sitting in the recliner near the far wall. Eliza was reading a children’s book to the adorable little girl. “Hi Jess.” Eliza glanced up at me. “How’s Tracker doing?” “Much better. Nate says he thinks Tracker’s going to be fine now.” She smiled. “That’s good.” The child eyed me with big blue eyes. I smiled and waved, which produced a shy smile and a wave in return from Hazel. “She’s so cute.” I knelt before the chair. “I’ll take over if you need a break.” Eliza nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.” She rose from the chair, ing the little girl over to me. I settled back into the recliner with Hazel on my lap. Eliza turned back at me. “Jacob said something about checking to make sure some Army general guy was dead. He asked me if the other dregs killed him. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I figured you would. He said even if the other dregs had killed this person, that more soldiers might still come here and try to kill us. So he asked if I’d watch Eliza until he came back. I’m going to go take a nap now.” Though The General was dead, Jacob was right. Others might come here to kill the dregs. Which meant we were all in danger. How long would Jacob be gone? Were the other dregs being cautious, alert for danger? They had to be. They weren’t stupid. I believed wholeheartedly that they would keep us safe. “Okay.” I smiled up at Eliza. “Take your time. I’ll watch her until Jacob returns.” Eliza walked into the bedroom and closed the door. I reopened the book. “Show me where Eliza left off.” Hazel turned a few pages for me, then smacked the page. “Right here.” My heart melted. She was so dang cute. Poor thing must be suffering without her mother. Jacob had seemed pretty helpless and I suspected he’d not been around

her much, if at all, before he’d brought her here. My heart went out to Jacob. I didn’t think he was a bad guy. He’d just done what he’d had to do to protect his child. Tracker hadn’t said a word about it to me. Did he forgive Jacob for his betrayal? I read Hazel the rest of that story, then grabbed another book from the small stack of children’s books sitting on the end table next to the recliner. “Are these your books?” I asked her. She nodded. “Daddy brought them.” I hesitated. “Does your daddy read these to you?” Hazel stared down at her lap. “No. Mommy did. Daddy doesn’t like me. He’s scared of me.” That didn’t surprise me. This gorgeous child would likely scare all the dregs. They were fierce warriors, but they probably had no clue what to do with a kid. “And are you afraid of him?” I asked gently. She nodded, whispering, “Yes.” I gave her a gentle squeeze. “Does he hurt you?” This time she gave a negative shake of her head. That was good. “How long have you known your daddy?” Hazel shrugged. “Just a little while.” Which could mean a few days, a few weeks, a few months. How long had Jacob been a part of his daughter’s life? How long had he even known about Hazel? Deciding I’d interrogated the child enough, and believing she was safe with her father, I opened the next book, and read the title, “Are You My Mother?” Hazel settled more comfortably against me while I read her the story about a little bird who fell out of its nest and couldn’t find its mother. Fortunately, the story had a happy ending, and the little bird found its mother in

the end. Sadly, little Hazel would be without her own mother now. What would happen to her? Would Jacob be able to raise this sweet child on his own? It was none of my business, but I couldn’t help but be concerned. I read Hazel two more stories, then fixed her some lunch. As I was cleaning up, Eliza emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “We just ate.” I glanced over my shoulder at her. She nodded and entered the kitchen. A knock came at the door, so I went to answer it while Eliza fixed herself a sandwich. Hazel followed after me, staying close to my heels, and cowered behind my leg as I opened the door. Jacob stood in the corridor, looking uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Hey. I was coming to let Eliza know I’m back now.” He glanced down at his daughter, then looked back at me. He made no move to take his child back and I sensed he was still uncomfortable around her. “Are you ready to take her back?” I asked. He sighed and looked away. “Not really. I don’t know what to do with her.” “You can try reading her a story,” I suggested. “She likes that.” He scowled. “I’m not a reader.” Sympathy tugged at me. This poor man, this warrior, had no clue what to do with his daughter. “I’ll watch her a little longer,” I said. “But eventually, you’re going to have to step up and take care of her.” He flushed, shifting his feet. “I know. I just…I don’t know anything about kids. I mean, shit, she scares the hell out of me. She’s so damn cute I’m afraid to touch her, that I’ll tarnish her somehow, that I might hurt her without meaning to.” “She’s not that fragile, Jacob. She just needs you to spend time with her. To be there for her, show her you care about her. Let her know she’s not alone. She’s a

child, a human being, just like you and me. And she needs you more than you realize.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I visited her at her mother’s a few times, but it was always really awkward.” He snorted softly. “Celia and I hooked up a few times over the years, but I never expected her to get pregnant.” He cleared his throat again, obviously uncomfortable. “I never planned to be a father.” I smiled. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.” He sighed. “They killed Celia to force me to help them.” He motioned helplessly at his daughter. “I think she saw it all. They knew I couldn’t let them kill my kid, too. I had to betray Tracker, but I don’t know if he will forgive me.” I didn’t either. But at least the dregs were letting him stay here still. As an outsider. How long would that last? How long before Tony, or one of the others, confronted Jacob and a fight broke out? A door closed from somewhere out in the corridor. Jacob turned away from me, his body tensing. I scooped Hazel up in my arms, sensing a conflict ahead and wanting to keep her away from it. “Get away from there,” Tracker’s voice came from out in the hallway. “Fucking traitor.” Oh crap. Jacob danced aside as Tracker surged forward, stalking into the apartment. His gaze flew to me, narrowing on Hazel. Relief crossed his features. “Did he hurt you?” I hurried forward. “No. Of course not. He was coming to get Hazel.” Tracker was still a little pale. He should probably be in bed recovering. Jacob hesitated in the doorway. He glanced at Tracker. “I went to make sure The General was dead, but the facility was abandoned. They either took off, or shut down completely. Did you guys kill him?”

Tracker slowly turned back to Jacob, his gaze hard. “Yes, we killed him. The bastard’s dead.” Jacob’s face didn’t change. “You realize that just because he’s dead, doesn’t mean The Company won’t send more soldiers here to kill us, right?” Tracker marched toward him. I couldn’t detect a limp in his step. Either he was hiding the pain really well, or the drug The General had given him was working, healing his shattered thigh bone. Jacob danced back out of the way in a fluid, graceful move. He was certainly quick on his feet. Eliza had seen him in action. I could imagine how impressive that must have been. “Look man, I’m sorry for what I had to do. But I didn’t have a choice. They were going to kill my kid. I’m not going to fight you. I’ll just keep dancing out of the way until you wear yourself out.” Tracker scowled. He flicked his gaze to me, then back to Jacob. “I know that. I couldn’t catch you before I was injured. I sure as hell won’t catch you now.” Their gazes locked. I waited, praying Tracker would forgive him. “You need to think about getting Jessica and Eliza out of here,” Jacob said. “It’s not safe anymore. I’m already looking for a place to take Hazel.” Tracker spun back around, his gaze latching on me. “Yes. I’ve been thinking the same thing.” He snatched Hazel from my arms and thrust her toward Jacob. “Take your kid. She’s your responsibility, not Jessica’s. Leave my woman alone.” Snagging my arm, Tracker dragged me past Jacob and out into the corridor. What the hell? I tried to break free, but he was too strong. “Tracker,” I protested, jerking back. “Stop manhandling me!” Ignoring me, he pulled me down the hallway toward his apartment. Opening the door, he shoved me inside. “You need to pack your stuff. You’re leaving.” What? I stared up into his emotionless face, into his cold, hard eyes. What had

happened? Why was he acting like this? Not more than two hours ago I’d been cuddling with him in his bed. He’d opened up to me, telling me about his mother, about his tattoo. I thought we’d bonded in that moment, grown closer… My heart squeezed. “No. I’m not leaving you.” Something flickered in his eyes before he turned away from me. “Yes, you are. You’re leaving, Jess, and you’re never coming back.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Tracker I didn’t want to do it. But I had to. For her own safety. The food and the sleep had revived me. I felt almost normal again. When I’d woken alone in my bed, missing Jess, wishing she was there beside me, I’d come to the conclusion that I had to send her away sooner rather than later. I was becoming way too attached to her. Needing her was bad. I couldn’t need something I didn’t deserve to have. As much as it hurt, it was best if she left before I was tempted to touch her again, make love to her again. I feared if I did, I wouldn’t be able to let her go. So I’d gone to find Nate and told him of my plans. He’d been stunned. He told me he believed I was making a mistake. But I insisted. I told him I trusted him to do this for me. Then, finally, when I didn’t give in, he reluctantly agreed to help me. And now Jacob had given me the perfect excuse to send Jess on her way. I’d been trying to think of a reason to push her away that she would believe, and now I had one. It was too dangerous for her here. It was too dangerous with me. If The Company sent more soldiers here, then she was in danger. Jessica grabbed my arm, her small fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Why, Tracker?” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave you.” I sighed, keeping my back to her, unable to look into her beautiful face. “You have to, Jess. It’s not safe here. I’m not safe. It’s time for you to go.” “So you’re just going to kick me out like this? After all we’ve been through?” Her voice cracked. I swallowed hard, unable to answer. My throat clogged with emotion. Her breath hitched, her fingers loosening on my arm. “Will I ever see you again?”

I drew in a deep breath, slowly exhaled. “I think it’s best if you don’t.” She let out a soft gasp. “So just like that, you’re booting me out? Sending me on my way? Do I mean so little to you, Tracker? What was I, just some fuck buddy to you?” I spun toward her, ready to deny it, the words on the tip of my tongue, eager to burst free, eager to tell her how much she meant to me. Instead, I sighed. What was the use? I needed her to leave, and the best way to get rid of her was to make her think I didn’t care. I jerked an arm toward the bathroom. “Gather your shit and stop arguing. We had our fun, now it’s time to go.” “We had our fun?” The hurt and the incredulity in her voice jarred me like a slap to the face. “Fun?” She raised her voice and straightened her spine, her brilliant green-gold gaze boring into mine. “Is that all I was to you was fun? Fuck you, Tracker.” Her voice cracked again. Her eyes swam with tears that wrenched at my heart, twisting it into a painful knot. She jerked away from me, marched several steps across the room, then paused and turned back to me. “I love you,” she whispered, a single tear trickling down her cheek. “I love you. Does that mean anything to you at all? Does that cold heart of yours even know what love is? Do you even care?” I flinched. That hurt. Calling me cold-hearted. Saying I didn’t care when I cared so fucking much it was tearing me up inside. It’s what you wanted. To make her leave. But I didn’t want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. You’re just doing what you have to do. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look into those tear-filled eyes, unable to witness the hurt on her beautiful face. “I’ve already made arrangements with Nate. He’ll take you to a safe place.” I strode toward the door to my apartment, needing to get away from her before I caved. Before I gave in and dragged her into my arms.

“Tracker!” Her voice halted me as I reached the door. “If I leave,” she said shakily, “then I’m never coming back. You hear me? If I walk out that door, then you’ll never see me again.” I swallowed hard. If she left, that would be it. I knew that. That’s why I was sending her away. It was for the best. Her safety was more important to me than my own happiness. Someday she would understand that I’d done this for her. Why did the thought of her leaving hurt so damn much? How would I survive without her? I was lost without her, empty without her, my soul a twisted, tormented, fucked up mess. I needed her to heal, to be whole, to be human again. “That’s the plan,” I choked out. I drew in a ragged breath, forcing the pain aside. “You were never supposed to stay, and you know that. This was always temporary. I’m no good for you, Jess.” I never should have touched her in the first place, never should have let her get close. Never should have let her break down my walls and teach me how to feel. “I’m not going to beg,” she whispered from behind me. “I’ll leave if that’s what you want. But know this, Tracker. Never, as long as I live, will I love someone the way I love you.” Her quiet footsteps moved into the bathroom. I’d wanted her to think I didn’t care, and it had worked. I’d just broken her heart. My chest squeezed in agony. I may have convinced her I didn’t care, but I would never be able to convince myself she meant nothing to me. Because she meant everything. And I’d just destroyed whatever we could have had together. Her quiet sobs reached me as she slammed around in the bathroom, gathering up her toiletries, the ones I’d brought her that first night. Goddammit. I longed to go to her, to yank her in my arms and never let her go. To tell her how much she meant to me. But I didn’t go to her. I couldn’t.

So, I yanked open the door and strode out into the corridor. And out of her life.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Jessica Tracker had just told me to leave. For good. I don’t know what I’d expected, but certainly not that. How could he be so cold and unfeeling? Not more than two hours ago, he’d kissed me tenderly and I know we probably would have made love if Nate hadn’t come in and interrupted us. So why was he pushing me away like this now? Why had he been so cruel? I’d told him I loved him, and he’d acted like he didn’t care. Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe you were nothing more than “fun” to him. My lungs seized. My heart pinched. I collapsed on the bathroom floor, knocking the toiletries off the counter, as uncontrollable sobs overtook me. Why? Why was he doing this? I thought he’d cared about me. I loved him. Damn him. I loved him. Didn’t he care? I don’t know how long I sat there and cried, my heart breaking in two, but eventually Eliza appeared, kneeling on the floor in front of me and pulling me into her arms. “Shh!” she murmured. “You’re going to be all right, Jess. Nate told me we are leaving. That it’s not safe here.” She rocked me gently the way I’d rocked her ever since she was a tiny baby. “He said it was best if we go to a safe place now.” “I love him,” I sobbed. “I love him so much. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want me.” She patted my back. “He does care, Jess. You know that. I think he loves you, too. He’s just trying to keep you safe. I don’t think this is the end for you two. I believe in my heart that you will see him again.” I shook my head back and forth. “He doesn’t want me. He told me it was best if I never saw him again. God, I’m such a fool. Why did I fall for him? Why?”

She hugged me again, patting my back while I cried. Finally, I forced myself to get a grip. I did have some pride, after all. Straightening my spine, I leaned back and wiped at my tears. I would survive this. Tracker wouldn’t break me, damn him. Fuck him and his cold heart. Eliza gently helped me to my feet, smiling gently. “Come on. Nate’s waiting. We have to go now.” I was numb as Eliza helped me gather my few possessions—the ones Tracker had brought me. Then we went out into the corridor where Nate was waiting. He wasn’t alone. The other dregs stood there in a line, waiting. To say goodbye? My heart squeezed. They stepped forward, one by one. First, Ryan, still weak from his injury, but at least he was up out of bed now. “Take care, doll. We’re gonna miss you.” There was a sadness in his eyes I’d never seen before. He gently squeezed my hand, then walked away. Luke was next. He cleared his throat and nodded at me. “Nice knowing you.” Then he left, obviously uncomfortable. Noah smiled gently and shook my hand. “You ever need help with online research or anything, just let me know. I’d be glad to help.” My eyes filled with fresh tears. “Thank you.” Logan stepped forward. “Good luck, Jessica. I’ll miss you.” He turned away quickly, disappearing down the corridor with the others. Then Tony was there, his darkness not as threatening as it had once been. His black gaze locked onto mine. “I was wrong about you, Jessica. You’re a good woman. A strong woman. And Tracker’s a fucking idiot to let you go.” He swallowed hard, nodded once, then walked away. Down at the end of the corridor, a silent figure stood, watching.

Jacob. He lifted his hand in a wave. I waved back, my heart pinching. What would happen to him and Hazel? “Let’s go.” Nate’s voice pulled my attention away from Jacob. When I glanced back down the corridor, Jacob was gone. Like a phantom in the mist. I willed Tracker to appear, so I could see him one last time. But, of course, he didn’t. I drew in a ragged breath, forcing my emotions under control. Nate sent me a sympathetic look. Then he led the way out of the maze. No one spoke as we reached the entrance and went to the hidden garage. We all climbed into the Escalade, Nate behind the wheel and Eliza and I in the back seat, holding hands and wondering about our future. Where was Nate taking us? Moments later, we were heading out of the forest. Away from Tracker. Where had he gone when he’d left me? To the workout room? Had he left the place entirely? Would I ever see him again? Turning away from the window, I glanced at Nate in the rearview mirror, my cheeks heating as my gaze met his. He looked away, staring out the front windshield. “Where are we going?” I asked. Nate answered without looking at me. “Tracker has a place in northern Idaho that’s safe. He asked me to take you there.” Northern Idaho? I’d never been out of Georgia before. Tracker was sending me about as far across the country as I could go. Intentionally, I was certain. Why did that cause my heart to twist even more? Nate sighed. “I told him I thought he was making a mistake, that he was a fool to

let you go.” I swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks.” “He’s scared, Jessica,” Nate murmured. “Afraid he might hurt you someday. Afraid something bad might happen to you. And he’s right, you know. It’s not safe living with a dreg. None of us are all there in the head anymore. We’re too dangerous. One minute you could be lying there happily in bed together, and the next he might have a flashback and choke you to death. He’s scared shitless he might kill you accidentally.” He paused, looking back out at the road in front of him. “Just give him time. I think, maybe, hopefully, someday he’ll come to his senses and realize how much he cares for you.” I swallowed hard and turned to look out my window. Someday? Why wouldn’t he just believe in himself? In me? In us? Someday I would be an old lady. Someday I’d be dead. I didn’t want to wait for “someday”. Life was too short for “someday”. I needed him now. I loved him now. Couldn’t he see that? “For such a strong man, he’s a coward,” I whispered, a tear trickling down my cheek. Nate cleared his throat. “Give him a break, Jessica. He’s never known happiness before. He’s never known love. I don’t think he even knows what love is, to be honest with you. I don’t think he’s fully aware of how he feels about you, but I know it’s tearing him up inside. He’s a mess right now. Letting you go isn’t easy for him, either.” Nate grew silent then, letting me ponder his words. Eliza reached over and squeezed my hand. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying my best to ignore the overwhelming pain in my heart. What Nate said didn’t matter. It was too late, anyway. Tracker had made his decision. I was gone. And I was never coming back.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Tracker Tracking the enemy, or a target, required my complete attention. I couldn’t be distracted while out in the field. Distractions meant fuck-ups. Distractions meant death. Jessica had been a distraction from the moment she’d come into my life. She still distracted me, even though she’d been gone for a week now. Nate had taken her and Eliza to my place in Idaho, then he’d come back. He’d made sure the house was stocked with plenty of food and other necessities, then had driven across the country back to Georgia. Staying away from Jess was the only way I knew how to protect her. But God, I missed her. If I’d hardly slept before she came into my life, I slept even less now. She was constantly in my thoughts, in my dreams. The dregs had all returned to the facility where we’d been prisoners. Jacob had been right. The place was deserted. The General was dead and gone. Had The Company shut down? We kept guard every day, one of us always stationed near the entrance to the underground maze, just in case. But no one came for us. Jacob and his kid had kept their distance from us the past week, which was good. If I saw him, I’d just want to take my pain and frustration out on him. If he was smart, he’d leave this place soon, before one of us decided to punish him for his betrayal. None of us were happy that he was still here, and if it weren’t for his kid, I’m sure one of us would have already killed him by now. Assuming we could get a hold of him. Jacob was by far the best fighter I’d ever known. None of us had the supreme fighting skills he did. He was a natural. Fluid, graceful, athletic, elusive. Watching him in action was impressive. I’d always ired his skills. The man moved like a phantom. I just wished he’d move like a phantom out of this place so I wouldn’t have to ever see him again and be reminded of his betrayal. Another week ed. It had now been two weeks since I’d sent Jess away. My

leg didn’t ache anymore. It didn’t hurt to walk from one place to the next. I could only assume the experimental drug The General had given me was somehow healing the bone in my leg. Why else would the pain have gone away? Why else did my thigh no longer ache with each step? Still no soldiers came to take us out. My gut told me that Jacob had killed the only ones who’d found our hideout. It would be awhile—maybe never—before any others found this place. Though we couldn’t completely let down our guard, it seemed this place was safe once again. Had I been wrong to send Jessica away? Had I been wrong to hurt the only woman who’d ever meant anything to me? But this wasn’t a place for a woman, living underground. She deserved sunlight and fresh air, trees and flowers and the smell of earth, the beauty of life surrounding her. Not a concrete tunnel. But even if The Company had temporarily given up searching for us, I still wasn’t safe. I would never be safe. I couldn’t trust myself to not accidentally hurt her. And the bounties might remain on our heads for years to come. We might never be free. I worked out more than usual after Jessica left, finding I needed release from the pain, from the demons raging inside me. I had sparred with each of the dregs several times these past two weeks, needing a good beating to help dull the pain inside me. I had run on the treill until my calves and thighs burned. I had lifted weights until my biceps nearly burst from the pain. I had beat on the punching bag until my entire body throbbed from abuse. But nothing dulled the ache inside me, the pain of what I’d done. I’d destroyed the only good I’d ever had in my life. And there was no getting her back. “You look like you need a good fight, man. Beating on that bag will never be enough. You need to actually hit someone.” I glanced up from the punching bag that I’d been attacking aggressively as Tony approached me. Nate was in the corner lifting weights and Logan was running on the treill. The other dregs weren’t around. “What do you say, amigo? Wanna spar? Want to get all that pent-up pain and frustration out of your system? Want another person to beat on?”

His black eyes glinted with something I couldn’t name. Sometimes I questioned Tony’s mental stability. Did he feel as miserable as I did? “Yeah, I could use a good fight.” I unwrapped the gloves and tossed them aside. I wanted him to beat the living shit out of me. I wanted physical pain that was so severe it completely blocked out the emotional pain raging inside me. Tony smirked. “After you.” Nate caught my eye from across the room. He still wasn’t happy with me for sending Jess away. None of the dregs were. But Nate was the only one who’d bitched about it. The others hadn’t said a word to me, though I’d seen the disappointment in their eyes. They all liked Jess—even Tony, the woman-hater. Nate watched us as we entered the ring. Then he set the weights aside and approached, waiting to see if we needed him to referee. I didn’t need him. I wasn’t going to tap out, no matter how bad it got. Today I needed the pain. Today I wanted to feel every punch, every strike, every ounce of pain. Today I needed punishment. For what I’d done. In typical Tony style, he came at me before I’d even turned all the way to face him. He slammed into me with a grunt, taking me backward. I stumbled, then went down hard, Tony landing roughly on top of me. He immediately went for a choke hold, squeezing his forearm against my throat. “You’re a fucking idiot, Tracker,” he sneered, his black gaze boring into mine. “You find a good woman, a strong, brave woman who loves you, then you stupidly kick her aside. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Don’t you know what the rest of us would give to have that?” What? Tony was pissed at me for sending Jess away? I wheezed against the pressure against my throat. Then I came to my senses and broke free. Tony smiled and backed away, letting me go, that gleam in his eye again. He had a sadistic, violent streak in him that sometimes got out of control. I wanted him to unleash that violence on me. We circled each other warily, our gazes locked. “You’re not telling me anything I

don’t already know,” I growled. “But it’s too late. I sent her away. I fucked up.” I lunged at him, slamming into his legs. This time he went down first with me on top of him. He rolled sideways, slipping out of my reach, and bounded to his feet. “Yeah, you did. Gordon sacrificed himself for you, you stupid ass, so you could be happy. But what do you do? You go throw it all away, making his sacrifice be for nothing.” There was a look of pure menace in his black eyes as he glared at me. “What are you talking about?” I growled. We danced around each other, watching, waiting, not quite touching. “I overhead him telling Jessica that when she told him she should have stayed instead of him. He said he did it for you, so you could be happy with her.” What? My heart squeezed. Gordon had done that for me? My breath hitched. I gasped, struggling for air. Fuck, I needed to be punished for my stupidity. I needed the pain. I needed Tony to kick my ass. “Come on,” I urged, waving him closer. “Kick my ass. I need it. Fuck, I need it.” Tony’s eyes filled with menace. “Gladly.” We rammed together with a thud, arms grappling for a hold. He twisted his foot around my ankle, tripping me. And down I went. Tony landed on top of me, pulling my arm back and wrenching it up tightly in an arm bar. I gritted my teeth at the pain, but I refused to tap out. Nate rushed into the ring, staying just out of our way, ready to intervene if necessary. “More,” I snarled, “I need more pain. Fucking give it to me!” Tony snickered. “You asked for it.” He pulled my arm even higher until something popped in my shoulder. I hissed at the pain, but still refused to tap out. Gordon’s words came back to me then, as if he were standing right here beside me.

This here is one fine woman. If you’re smart, you won’t let her go. Ah hell. Jess’s face swirled in my mind, her cheeks streaked with tears, her eyes full of hurt. And her words, right before I’d walked away… I love you. Never, as long as I live, will I love someone the way I love you. My heart pinched. No one had ever told me that before. If I walk out that door, I’m never coming back. Goddammit, what had I done? I’d sent her away. And for what? I’d convinced myself it was for her own safety. But it was more than that. It had been my own fear that had forced me to push her away. I didn’t deserve her. I wasn’t good enough for her. I never would be. I love you. Never, as long as I live, will I love someone the way I love you. My breath caught. My throat tightened with emotion. And I loved her. I loved her. So damn much. I swallowed hard. My eyes swam with tears. Then I broke, unable to ignore the pain any longer. I opened my mouth and screamed in agony. “Fuck Tony, let him go!” Nate yanked Tony back away from me. But Nate couldn’t know the agony inside me was so much worse than the pain in my arm. That was why I screamed. For what I’d done to Jess. I’d hurt her. I’d sent her away instead of keeping her close. Instead of telling her I loved her. I’d let Gordon’s sacrifice be for nothing. “He was itching for a fight,” Tony argued. “You heard him. He needed that.” I crumbled forward on the mat, drawing in great, rasping breaths. Yeah, I’d needed that. I think he might have dislocated my shoulder. But he’d forced me to it the truth.

I loved her. I let out a near-hysterical laugh, then sobbed, bowing my head. Love. I could now say I knew what love was. But I’d stupidly thrown it away as soon as I’d found it. Nate knelt in front of me. “It’s not too late, you know,” he said quietly. “You know where she is.” I lifted my gaze, my eyes stinging with tears. “I fucked up. I hurt her. She’ll never have me now.” What had I done? Tony snorted from where he stood to my left. I jerked my gaze up to him. “What’s so funny, asshole? Want another round?” He quirked a brow. “You can’t handle another round. You’re a mess, amigo. I can’t believe you’re a quitter. Why don’t you just go to her and tell her you love her?” I stared into his hard, black gaze. He was serious. Was this really Tony urging me to go to Jess? Tony, who hated women? I sat up, groaning softly, my injured arm throbbing as it hung loosely by my side. “You fucked me up, Tony.” Tony grinned. “I know. You needed something to wake you the fuck up. We’re all sick and tired of you moping around here. Did it work?” I let out a soft laugh. Motherfucker. “Yeah. It did.” Nate rose to his feet. “Come on. Tony and I will reset your shoulder. Then you’re getting your sorry ass on your bike, and you’re riding across the country to her. Got it? We don’t need you here. Go live your life. Go be happy.” He held a hand out to me. I drew in a deep breath, then slipped my hand in his and allowed him to pull me to my feet. “Yeah.” My heart warmed. “I got it.” Go be happy.

I was going after her. I would make sure Gordon’s sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing. I loved her. Loved her. Why had it taken Tony dislocating my shoulder for me to realize that? God, I was a stubborn fool. I fucking loved her. And I was going to tell her that. But what if it was too late?

CHAPTER FIFTY

Jessica Tracker’s home was a large, log-cabin style building nestled back in the trees. It was secluded, and the nearest neighbor was several miles away. It was beautiful here, peaceful, deep in the pines. I had no doubt Eliza and I were a lot safer here than in Georgia. Nate had left a large stack of money on the kitchen counter for us. He’d said it should be enough to get us by for a while. He’d also unlocked a big metal safe in the corner of one of the bedrooms and handed me a key fob to a vehicle. “This goes to the Jeep in the garage. Tracker said you can use the Jeep for whatever you need. It’s been sitting for a while, so I hooked the battery up to a charger to give it some juice. It should be fully charged by tomorrow. Just go out in the morning and unplug the charger and remove the battery cables. Then start the car up and let it run for a few minutes before you go anywhere. You shouldn’t have any problems.” I’d nodded. That seemed simple enough. Nate hadn’t stayed long, obviously anxious to get back to Georgia. Once he was gone, Eliza and I explored our new living quarters. It was so calm and peaceful here, the smell of pines filling the air, the forest alive with wildlife, but I was so miserable I couldn’t really enjoy it. I could easily see why Tracker had purchased this place. But I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t here, enjoying it himself. If this were my home, I would certainly live here rather than in an underground maze back in Georgia. Tracker’s home was fully furnished, and the decorations were nothing like those in his apartment, which led me to believe he’d either purchased a fully furnished home or he’d hired someone to come in and decorate it for him. It had large windows throughout, letting in the gorgeous view from every room. The bedrooms had log-post bedframes and fancy wooden furniture. The kitchen and bathroom areas had ceramic-tiled floors and marble countertops. The living room and family room areas had newer, brown leather furniture and big-screen televisions on the walls. The kitchen had fancy walnut cabinets and a large center island. Tracker had an office/library room that contained shelves and

shelves of hardback books. It was truly a beautiful home. But it felt empty without him. I felt empty without him. As soon as I was able, I was taking Eliza and moving to our own place. As soon as I was able. When would that be? The truth was, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to give up hope that someday Tracker would come home. I wanted to see him again so badly. I missed him so much. But how long should I wait? I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with myself anymore. Should I sign up to take the state bar here in Idaho? I could practice law here as easily as down in Georgia. And there were no gang wars here. After two weeks, I finally came to the decision to stop moping around and do something with myself. It was time to plan for mine and Eliza’s future. We couldn’t stay here forever, hoping for Tracker’s return. So I signed up for the bar exam and enrolled Eliza in the local high school. Since it was early August now, I had several weeks to study before the exam in September. Eliza would start school at the end of the month. After enrolling in the bar exam, I spent a few hours online looking up local law firms and emailed my resume to all of them, letting them know I would be taking the bar soon and was eager for a job. As soon as I got a job, and my first paycheck, Eliza and I were moving into our own place. We were moving on with our lives. As much as it hurt, I had to accept the fact that Tracker didn’t want me. Then, three days later, the unexpected happened. I was in Tracker’s office, studying for the bar exam, while Eliza was in the living room, watching a movie on Netflix. Tracker’s office faced the southeast corner of the house, and the window looked out into the front yard. The sound of a motorized vehicle caught my attention. Vehicles out here were not common, as this was the last house at the end of the road and was surrounded by woods in all directions. Someone was coming. We wouldn’t know if that someone was good or bad until they arrived. Had The General’s soldiers found us? I was relatively certain we were safe here. But not one hundred percent certain.

The engine grew louder as I jumped up from the desk and hurried into the living room. “Someone’s coming,” I told Eliza. She shut the television off and leapt up from the couch, her eyes wide with worry. “Bad guys?” “I don’t know.” Together we went to the huge window looking out into the front yard and peered out. A silver motorcycle turned into the driveway and stopped in front of the garage. My heart pounded. Oh my God. He was here! I stared as Tracker turned the bike off and put the kickstand down. He removed his helmet and lifted a hand to rake it through his dark hair. He dismounted and set the helmet on the seat. Enraptured, I took in every single movement he made. He turned toward the front door, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “Is that Tracker?” Eliza jerked away from the window, grinning from ear to ear. “I told you he’d come, Jess!” Yes, she had, but I hadn’t been so sure. I’d been too afraid to hope. She spun around in a happy circle, then raced for the front door and yanked it open. I didn’t move as Eliza bounded out of the house to greet Tracker. She didn’t know him very well, so I was a little surprised by her eagerness to see him. Eliza’s excited voice reached me from outside through the open door. Then the deep timbre of Tracker’s response followed. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. What was he doing here? It’s his house, Jess. Why else would be here? My fears and insecurities returned in a rush. Though I wanted to see him, I

wasn’t sure if I could face him after he’d sent me away and broken my heart. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to face him. Had he come to send me away again? I couldn’t handle his rejection a second time. I couldn’t do it. I fought back the sudden urge to flee. Be brave, Jess. You can handle this. I drew in a deep breath, slowly exhaled. The front door opened again and Eliza hurried past. “I’m going to fix something for him to eat. He said he’s hungry after the long drive.” I felt my lips twitch. How many times while I was staying with Tracker had he said he was hungry and told me to fix him something to eat? The man was always hungry. It must be all those big muscles needing nourishment. I focused my attention on the doorway, unable to look away. Tracker stepped over the threshold, lifting a hand to push his sunglasses up onto his head. My breath caught. My heart went wild. He was still so big and powerful-looking. So handsome. I wanted to run to him and press happy kisses all over his face. Run my fingers through his hair. Hug him close. Instead, I stood immobile, watching him. Waiting. Terrified. He went still as his silver gaze landed on me. My heart slammed into my ribs. Oh God, I didn’t know if I could do this. We stared at each other, neither one of us moving. Neither one of us speaking. Sounds came from the kitchen as Eliza opened the refrigerator and set something on the countertop. Then the microwave turned on. “Jess.” His voice carried across the short distance like a caress, making heat ignite in my belly. His gaze traveled down my body, then back to my face. “I have something for you.” He unzipped his leather jacket and pulled out his sketchpad.

My legs trembled. I’d accidentally left the rose drawing in his apartment. I hadn’t had a chance to gather it up before leaving. I’d missed it ever since, wanting a part of him to , to hold close, to help me survive without him. Had he come to return it to me? He took a step toward me. I took a step toward him. We both stopped with just a few feet separating us. Eliza peered into the room at us, then quickly disappeared. “You forgot this.” He handed me the rose drawing. I took it from him, holding it against my chest. My heart squeezed. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then opened the sketchpad, flipped through a couple of pages, then stopped. He turned the page toward me. “Start here. There’s something I have to show you.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Tracker My heart thundered as her gaze traveled over the page. It was a drawing of her face that day I’d used her in the workout room, the hurt I knew she’d felt after I’d stormed out and told her to terminate any resulting pregnancy. I’d hated myself for doing that to her. It had been cruel and unforgiveable. Her eyes filled with tears. She glanced up at me. “Tracker?” “Keep going,” I whispered. “Look at the rest.” Slowly, page by page, she looked at the rest of my drawings, the ones I’d sketched after she’d gone, pouring my heart and soul onto the page. Picture after picture of Jess in every possible way. Of me, in misery, my heart split in two. She came to the last one where I’d drawn the two of us together, embracing, our lips locked in a ionate kiss, our love evident in the details I’d drawn on the page. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. “There’s a lot of pain in this book,” she whispered, her gaze holding mine. “I’m so sorry, Tracker.” I cleared my throat. “I wanted you to see what I went through these past weeks. Normally drawing helps soothe me, eases my pain, but this time, it didn’t work. I drew you for days on end, trying to free myself of the misery, but it just wouldn’t work. I sparred with the other dregs, I lifted weights, I beat on the punching bag until my knuckles were raw, but nothing helped.” I lowered to my knees in front of her, swallowing hard and lifting my gaze to hers. “What I’m trying to say is I’m lost without you, Jess. I’m nothing without you. I need you to help me heal. I need you to help fix me.” She sniffled and wiped at another tear. “Tracker…” It was a breathless, needy sound that made my heart pinch.

“The only thing that can ease this terrible ache in my chest is you, Jess.” I grabbed her hand and pressed it against my heart. “I love you. I need you. I can’t live without you. Please forgive me.” Her eyes filled with fresh tears and a happiness that took my breath away. “Took you long enough,” she whispered with a soft laugh. She cupped my face in her hands, then knelt before me, and pressed her lips to mine. And just like that, the fear that had been holding me back sifted free like a feather in the wind. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her back. I poured my heart and soul into that kiss, wanting her to feel everything I felt for her. We knelt there on the floor, kissing, hugging, laughing softly, and all the pain and heartache I’d endured these past weeks slowly slipped away. I was with Jess now. I could heal. She could fix me. Finally, I drew back and gazed into her beautiful hazel eyes. “You were my first in a lot of ways. The first to steal my heart. The first to show me what true love is. The first to make love to me. Sex before you had just been that: sex. A bodily need. But with you, it was so much better. It was special. It was beautiful.” I paused, drew in a deep breath. “You were the first to make me want to truly live, Jessica. I’m so damn sorry I sent you away. I’m an idiot. A coward. I was scared —I’m still scared—that I might hurt you someday. You are literally the heart that beats in my chest. You are the balm that soothes my battered soul. You are the light in my dark, screwed-up world. You make the nightmares go away. You make me want to live and be a part of something beautiful. You are what completes me and makes me whole.” I looked deeply into her eyes. “Life with me won’t be easy. I can’t promise it will be safe. I can’t promise I won’t have any more nightmares or that I won’t accidentally hurt you. I can’t promise there won’t be more bounty hunters coming for me, but with The General dead, I’m hoping it will all die down soon. And if I have you in my life, by my side, I know I can overcome anything.” I swallowed hard. “I want you, Jessica, only you, for the rest of my life. Please say you’ll forgive me for being a dumbass. Please say you want me for me, for the man I am and for the man I can be.” I drew in another deep breath. That had been a lot to say. More than I’d said to anyone all at once before. Had it come out right? Could she forgive me? Could she still love me after I’d hurt her?

Her gorgeous eyes filled with fresh tears. She cupped my cheek in her palm. “Oh, Tracker, I love you, too. So, so much. Nothing will ever change that. I will always love you. And I want you too. Forever.” She paused, lowering her gaze. “Can I call you Liam now? Are you ready for that?” I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I’m ready to start being Liam again. A part of me will always be Tracker, but I’m ready to start letting the bad parts of Tracker go, and letting the good parts bring Liam back. You taught me that I don’t need to be a cold-hearted bastard, that it’s okay to feel things, and that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong. I hope I can always be the man you need, Jessica. And if I ever do something wrong—which I’m sure I will—then I want you to straighten me out, help me do the right thing.” She smiled and wiped at a tear. “You’re all I need. Just you. Whatever mistakes we make, we’ll overcome them. Together.” She stared into my eyes. “I’m not pregnant, just so you know. But someday, I do want kids. It’s important to me. Is that okay with you? Do you want a family someday?” There was expectancy in her eyes, and also worry. She was afraid I didn’t want kids, but who could blame her after how I’d reacted that day in the workout room? The truth was, I did want a family someday. With her, I wanted it all. I dragged her back into my arms and squeezed her tightly. My heart nearly burst with joy. Having a family with Jess would be the perfect happily-ever-after ending to my story. “Yes. Nothing would make me happier than having a family with you.” “Oh, Liam,” she whispered, tightening her arms around me and pressing her lips to mine. “You make me so happy.” Liam. My heart swelled. Hearing my real name on her lips felt so good, so right. And she made me happy. More happy than I deserved. I was never letting her go again. Ever. She was going to heal me. She was going to fix me. With her, I could be free. I hugged her tightly, and as we knelt there, holding each other close, our love flowing between us, I knew I’d made the right decision to swallow my pride and come after her. I knew everything would be fine. No matter what came our way, we would get through it. We would survive.

Together.

# # # Thank you for reading Tracker and Jessica’s story. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. It would mean a lot to me if you would take a moment to leave a review at your favorite retailer.

Don’t miss the next book in the series, The Fighter, available now!

Other Titles by Leslie Georgeson

The Pact duet (romantic suspense/organized crime): The Mocking Man – Book 1 The Honest Liar – Book 2

The Dregs (military romantic suspense): The Tracker – Book 1 The Fighter – Book 2 The Healer – Book 3 The Smuggler – Book 4 The Trainer – Book 5 The Hacker – Book 6 The Extractor – Book 7 The Enforcer – Book 8

Underneath paranormal/sci-fi romance series: Exiled – Book 1 Drifter – Book 2 Unseen – Book 3

Unlikely Heroes romantic suspense series:

Stolen – Book 1 Abducted – Book 2 Deceived – Book 3 Stoned – Book 4 Scarred – Book 5

No Son of Mine (standalone romantic mystery)

About Leslie Georgeson

Leslie Georgeson writes romance and suspense, sometimes with a dash of sci-fi or paranormal tossed in to make things more interesting. She is the author of the popular military romantic suspense series, THE DREGS, which was nominated for the 2018 TopShelf Indie Book Awards. Her other titles include the UNLIKELY HEROES series, the UNDERNEATH series, the standalone romantic mystery, NO SON OF MINE, and the newly released romantic suspense duet, THE PACT. Leslie lives with her husband and daughter on a quiet country acreage in Idaho.

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